The More Things Change
by Aivaeh
Summary: I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.
1. One

**The More Things Change**

by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** I know there are a ton of these fics out there. Still I recently got into the show, and I can't get enough of these types of stories. The urge to write my own wouldn't leave me alone so here it is. Hopefully someone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

**Chapter One**

The color of my arm as I slapped the top of the alarm clock was the first clue something was wrong. Confused by the sudden shift in skin tone, I stilled. Stared down my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. Sitting up, I stretched out my other arm. A quick flip revealed that they were the same shade. Perfect mirrors of each other.

It wasn't until my sights drifted from my mysterious overnight tanning that I realized I wasn't in my room, either. From the steep slanted ceiling to the built-in bookshelf, nothing was familiar except the white walls. The bed wasn't my bed. The cream bedspread and wooden headboard were a different style from my purple comforter and modern piping headboard. Now that I was paying attention, I realized the mattress felt firmer, too.

Where was I? How did I get here? My memory came up blank.

I shuddered and closed my eyes. But no matter how many times I squeezed them shut and reopened them, the room was the same. Wondering if I were trapped in a freakishly realistic dream, I tried to pinch my arm. The sharp pain pulled in an equally sharp a breath, but it didn't jolt me back into my own bed. Not that I'd had much hope it would. I wasn't a lucid dreamer, but I knew when I was awake. And I was awake.

I rubbed my arm, encouraging the pale patch of skin to fade back into the darker golden olive I was now sporting. Waiting for the bruising pulse to fade, a few strands of hair fell across my face. I pinched the lock and brought it up to eye level. It was straight, not the crinkled mess I usually woke with. The shade was a darker brown, too. Nearly black out of the sunlight.

I caught sight of a full-length mirror. If my arms and hair were different… But the angle made it impossible to see myself from the bed. Swallowing, I swung my legs out from beneath the blanket and was both surprised and not to find the same golden coloring so different from my typical pale. My thighs were softer, lacking the sharp definition of muscle. Another twist from my stomach warned me I was starting to freak out again, but I couldn't help it. I took in the hips that flared, and then a chest more generous than mine.

I rose up onto quivering legs, dread deepening with every careful step towards the mirror. When I stepped in front of it, lips parted but with nothing to say. A hand flew over the mouth that wasn't mine. Wide open eyes a deeper shade of brown stared back at me in horror. The head shook side to side, denial in the steep pinch of sculpted brows.

Nina Dobrev's horrified reflection stared back at me.

The face finally lost a shade, and if it went any lighter, it might end up closer to my own. Her hands curled into the straight strands of shining hair, ran across the crown of the skull, tightening into a grip that pulled. I sucked down each breath, watching as the actress in the mirror mimicked every move. The reflection blurred, colors smearing. I shut my eyes before the burn in my eyes manifested into tears.

This was insane. It couldn't be real. I had to be dreaming.

Eyes open again, I looked around. Like a shift in perspective had shown me the full picture, this new understanding painted my surroundings in a very different light. I'd _seen_ this room before. On a television show. Elena's room. The bed where Damon would lounge and wave at Elena with her teddy bear—that was on the floor next to her bed. The window seat Elijah would lean against as he bargained for Elena's friends and family's lives at the price of her own life.

Wrapping my arms around my stomach, as if I could physically hold back the wave of nausea threatening to spill over, I gazed around and shivered. I tentatively moved back to the mirror and pressed the tip of a finger against it. Cold. Smooth and solid. Real. I pressed against the wooden frame. Slightly less cold, but still chilled. Slightly less hard but still solid, small imperfections beneath my skin from the grain, even smoothed with varnish. Real.

I moved faster, as if trying to outrace the truth to the other side of the room, to a desk pressed against the wall. There were candles that gave under my fingertips when pressed hard enough. Real. Notebooks that my fingers slid across until my nails caught the metal spiral. Real. My toes curled into the cold hardwood floor smoothed with a coat or two of lacquer. Real. I picked up a framed picture of Elena smooshed between two adults I'd never seen before. My finger squeaked across the glass as I slid my thumb over their smiles. Real. Brought it up to stare at a younger Elena. This wasn't some prop for a television show, with carefully set lighting and a professional eye. It was the naturally lit and awkwardly shot photograph of an amateur. The faint smell of vanilla lingered in the air. Real.

The picture clattered back onto the desktop. My free hand curled back into a fist that pressed into my stomach. I turned and stared at the frightened girl in the mirror.

Shuffling back to the bed, I settled onto a bottom corner. I stared at the alarm clock. Six thirty in the morning. Early? Or was Elena Gilbert a pre-dawn riser? An insomniac?

Like a song set to repeat, my mind circled back around to the unbelievable situation I was in. Wondering, over and over, how this was possible. What had happened after I'd gone to bed? How did I wake up as a character in a television show? Was this some kind of nervous break? Had I gone mad? Was I dead? In a coma? How real was real? _Really_ real? What'd happen to _me_ if something happened to _her_?

Rubbing a hand down my face, I struggled with all the questions I couldn't answer. What I did know was that I liked the show well enough to watch it, but I'd never want to live it. Let alone as Elena. Not that I had an issue with her, she served the purpose she was written for. She just wasn't my favorite. Not like Caroline, who'd shown amazing growth. She didn't have any powers like Bonnie. Unless you counted attracting danger.

Since I wasn't craving blood—at least, I didn't think I was—I guessed she was still human. Realizing vampirism was a possibility I had to seriously consider, a snort of laughter bubbled up and escaped before I could stop it. As if a dam broke, I let loose more laughter, this time sounding frantic and half-crazed. What absurd turn into insanity had my life taken?

A door opened somewhere beyond the closed one separating Elena's room from the rest of the house. The sound choked my laughter abruptly short as my heart shot up and got stuck in my throat. The floor creaked outside. Footsteps grew closer. Came all the way up to the room's door. The rap of knuckles set my heart pounding. "Elena?" I knew that voice. Jenna, Elena's aunt. "Better get in the shower if you don't want to be late."

I swallowed back a scream. "Okay." Oh god. I even sounded like Nina Dobrev. Elena. Whoever.

I took a steadying breath before adding a tentative, "Thanks."

"Sure." The footsteps moved back and away as she walked down what I was guessing was a hallway.

Well. Still somewhat dazed, but a little steadier after my bout of mad laughter, I found clothes laid out on a dresser after a moment of unfocused gazing while my brain rebooted. Getting up and going over, I picked them up and turned towards the built-in bookshelf, beside which was another door. One Jenna hadn't knocked on. I had vague memories of a bathroom—one the ghost of Bonnie's ancestor trapped her inside.

Sidling up to it, I hesitated for a second before pushing it open. A connecting bathroom, and not just to Elena's bedroom. The opposite door must've led to Jeremy's. It wasn't large, but it had enough room for two sinks, a toilet, and a shower tucked behind the inward swinging door.

Discomfort had my hands gripping the clothes tighter at thought of washing somebody else. Did she have a bathing suit? No, I'd still have to undress. But that was better than scrubbing.

I chewed on my inner cheek before sighing. This whole situation was a can of worms. What were the ethics of a fictional character's bodily autonomy, if they weren't so fictional anymore? At first it seemed cut and dry—treat it with the respect you'd give any other body—except for the fact _I_ was the one currently occupying it. Which made me wonder what had happened to the real Elena. Or was she real? Had someone's consciousness been in this body before? Was she still in here, somewhere? What about Jenna? Was _she_ real? She'd sounded real. Would she parrot lines from the show, like some sort of scripted character? Was I? Had I already been doing that all my life? Was I doing it now?

Already overwhelmed, I wasn't up to parsing through all the metaphysical questions that went along with finding myself in a fictional universe populated by fictional characters. Nevermind all the implications and ramifications. Knowing jack shit about what had happened to me, I couldn't even venture towards any sort of guess, educated or otherwise.

I turned to the more concrete and immediate issue instead. Could I get away with not washing? I raised my arm and sniffed. Nothing funky but—ugh. Going a day without showering had my nose wrinkling as if I'd caught a whiff of body odor. Besides, at some point, I was going to have to use the toilet.

I compromised with myself by making it quick and not looking at anything.

I kept hurrying as I wrapped myself up in towel before daring to go in front of the mirror. Elena, hair plastered against her head and neck, looked freaked out. I frowned. So did she. Eager to banish the surreal sight away, my gaze dropped like a stone to the sinks. A separate toothbrush holder for both, one tube of toothpaste between them. I took hold of the purple toothbrush, hoping I'd picked the right one. I concentrated on finishing up the morning's ablutions.

Back in the bedroom, I shut the door behind me. I was about to unwind the towel and dry off before wrapping up Elena's longer hair when a sound broke the morning quiet and sent a chill through my blood.

"Caw!"

My arms and neck prickled from all the hairs now standing straight. My head turned, slow and reluctant. A light cotton curtain shifted in a breeze from an open window. A window I knew had been shut earlier when I'd examined the bedroom. On the thick boughs of an old tree standing beyond perched a great black crow, watching.

Head tilting, its small black eye remained fixed. On me. After a minute where we stared at one another and it—he?—stayed still, I took a few careful steps to the window. Its head straightened and a wing shook. I paused, but it didn't hop away or take off, so I finished crossing the final bit of space between me and the window. I ignored the curtain as its edge brushed along my bare arm. I stared into that black gaze, searching for something more than animal in its eye. Something intelligent. The very idea was crazy, but at this point, it was a drop in an ocean of madness.

"Caw!"

Sucking down a breath, I gripped the windowpane and pushed it shut. The crow stretched its neck and dipped its head. Standing back up, it launched itself into the sky with a powerful flapping of its shining black wings.

The air rushed out of me, taking the worst of my anxiety with it. "Perv." Forehead falling to the glass, I shut my eyes to shut out this fake world and let my skin soak up the cold. The sun's light glowed red behind my eyelids. I stared into it for as long as I could stand before opening them back up and shutting the curtains. Not that they'd do much good, white and thin as they were.

Hurrying to dress, my sights darted around to all the windows. On the plus side, I was so preoccupied with avoiding any peeping crows I didn't have time to worry out about dressing a body that wasn't mine. Since I hadn't wrapped my hair, the back of Elena's red shirt dampened. Swearing, I snatched the towel I'd discarded from the bed. I tried massaging the worst of the wetness out of it before wrapping it up.

With Jenna still alive, Elena was a seventeen-year-old Junior. She had to have a hair dryer somewhere.

Not hearing anyone or anything stirring out of the bathroom, I went back in. I found one in cupboards beneath the sink, along with a set of curling irons and various other beauty paraphernalia. A power strip laid nearby for the plug. Rummaging through the rest of the drawers, I found Elena's makeup.

With an unfamiliar face, it took me longer than normal to apply it.

As soon as I was ready, I ventured beyond the bedroom door and into the hallway. It looked fairly normal. A generic pastoral painting hung on the wall above a low side table. More doors, one that must have led to the bathroom. Jeremy's had to be beyond it. I supposed that meant Elena's parents had the room across. Jenna must be sleeping there now.

The stairs were at the end of the hall. I paused at the top, listening for any sounds of life down below. Sure enough there was a slight clatter and the running of a faucet. Kitchen?

Only one way to find out.

The stairs were well made. They didn't creak as I descended. Pictures were arranged on the wall. Family portraits. The two adults from the framed photograph in my room featured in these, too. Elena's parents, maybe. I don't remember the series ever featuring either of them.

The faucet was shut off before I reached the landing. Drawers were rolling open and closed, though, punctuated by the creak of a cabinet door. The controlled orchestra of domesticity led me to the right and down a narrow hall that led into a wide-open archway. The smell of freshly brewed coffee grew stronger with each step. Beyond the arch sat a full-size dining table. Scooting around, I approach an island counter separating the kitchen proper from the dining area.

Jenna was moving back and forth between the cabinets and island, various breakfast paraphernalia spread out on the other counter lining the wall. Boxes of cereal and pop tarts, bowels of fruit, a loaf of bread beside a plate of butter. She was muttering, but it was too low to make out.

I stopped at the outside of the island, next to the stools, and leaned on its marble top. "Jenna?"

If she noticed my hesitation she didn't seem to think it was a big deal. "Elena! Morning." Her smile was almost manic, stretched way too wide and revealing way too many teeth. "I made breakfast!" She paused before adding, "Well, I pulled it out of the fridge and cabinets. But. Breakfast!"

I swept my sights along the strange horde of food.

Jenna followed my lead, twisting at the waist to take in her work. "Too much?"

"Little bit." I squeezed my hands together. Somewhere up above, a toilet flushed. Surprised, I looked up. That's something I never heard on the show.

"Oh, good. Jeremy's up." Jenna shook her head. "Was not looking forward to dragging him out of bed."

It was a guess, but, "First day of school."

Jenna looked over and must have seen the trepidation in my face and interpreted it as nerves. "You'll do great, Elena. No one expected you to keep up your grades last year after—" she trailed off into an awkward silence before shrugging. "Anyway. It'll be better. You'll do better." Before I could think of a reply, that slightly panicked glaze came back over her eyes. She held up her hands, "Not to place undue expectations on you. Fine is good. You'll do fine."

Wow. The woman was a bigger wreck than I was. And I was an unwitting body snatcher plopped into the start of the Vampire Diaries' pilot episode. I managed a careful smile. "Right."

Jenna brightened. "Right!" She turned and thrust a hand towards a box of frozen Eggos. "Waffles?"

The thought of food threatened to churn my still sour stomach. "Oh. I'm… not really hungry this morning."

Jenna looked as if I'd shot a dog. "Nerves. Should've thought of that," she fretted. Before I could assure her it was a nice gesture, she burst into motion. Sweeping the food back into her arms before carrying it back towards the fridge. "How about coffee?" she asked over the tower of boxes and plastic containers. "Just brewed a pot."

I wasn't really feeling up to that, either, but didn't want to make things any worse. I wasn't entirely certain she wouldn't disassemble the keurig. "Sure." The shiny coffeemaker sat beside a sterling silver sink. I pushed myself off the counter and carefully sidestepped Jenna to the percolating pot.

Then I realized I had no idea where the mugs were.

Casting an eye to Jenna, who kept shoving the food back into the fridge, I wondered if she'd notice me searching the cabinets when a loud stomping moving swiftly down the stairs signaled Jeremy's impending arrival. The boy himself appeared a moment later, bangs swept across his drooping eyes. He slouched past the table and the island, coming to a stand beside me. The smell of teenage boy was very strong—the hoodie must have come off the floor, and I hadn't heard the shower—when he reached over my head to the end cabinet.

"Breakfast?" Jenna asked, voice hopeful as she half-straightened from the fridge.

"Coffee," Jeremy grunted, plucking a mug from the cabinet.

Jenna sighed and went back to putting away the food.

Jeremy took a glance at the remaining debris from Jenna's impromptu buffet and arched a brow before dismissing it with a shrug. Apparently, the coffee pot was more interesting.

I took a moment to soak in the presence of two fictional characters. From Jenna's frenetic movements to the languid shuffling of Jeremy Gilbert as he moved back towards the island and one of the stools.

Surreal didn't begin to cover it.

I reached up into the same cabinet I'd seen Jeremy take a mug from to get my own. The coffee smelled good as it flowed into the cup, releasing an especially strong aroma. I took a moment to just let the scent wash over me, ground me. How could this be a dream? How could it be real?

Noticing my hands were beginning to shake again, I forced the questions back and wondered which one of the ceramic chicken-shaped jars standing alongside the backsplash were filled with sugar. Tentatively I checked the rooster. The contents were white and powdery but looked too fine. Probably flour. I checked the next, a brown hen. Bingo.

Shit. Where were the spoons?

"You both have rides?" Jenna asked as I surreptitiously tried to pull open a drawer to peek for silverware.

"Yep." Slurping resumed from Jeremy's place at the counter.

"Bonnie's picking me up?" I didn't mean to make it sound like a question, but it's not like I knew what Elena's plans had been prior to possessing her body. I had no idea how close to the show things were. If I was even in the 'show' or some alternative universe. Or if I was going insane. Maybe I was trapped in a hallucination. Maybe it was about to go bad, and killer clowns were going to jump out of the next drawer.

I opened it very carefully. Turned out it was where the big utensils like the bar-b-que fork went.

Where the hell did these people put their spoons?

"Okay. What else? Lunch money?"

I had given up the search for the spoon and decided to drink the coffee black when Jeremy's free hand lifted.

Jenna grabbed a purse off the end of the counter and fished inside until she emerged with a few bills. Jeremy plucked them from her hand and had them shoved into his pocket before Jenna had the chance to hand them over. Swiveling around in the chair, he got up and wandered back out of the kitchen, mug traveling with him.

Did he actually have a ride?

Trying to remember, I started to take a sip. Soon as the edge of the mug touched my lip, it became clear it was too hot to drink. How'd Jeremy manage? Hoping to cool it some, I blew out a breath.

"Elena?"

I froze, eyes wide as I looked over.

Jenna had another ten in her hand.

"Oh, I'm… I'm good." I had no idea if that was true, but I wasn't about to emulate Jeremy's grabby hands. That was just rude.

"Okay." Jenna folded the cash back into her wallet before plopping it back into her handbag. The purse-o-phile in me admired the supple white leather in a quilted pattern. "That's it? Don't need anything else?" She ran her eyes over me. "Backpack?"

"Upstairs?" Probably.

"Don't forget it." Jenna squinted. "What am I missing?"

I stared back, face blank, heart racing.

Her eyes widened. "Crap! My thesis adviser." She snatched the handbag off the counter and hurried out another door that must've led outside. "Good luck!"

As soon as she was gone, I collapsed on top of the counter. The mug clattered against the marble top, and a splash of coffee hit my hand. I hissed, snatching it away and lifting it to my face for inspection. Well, no third-degree burns. Just stung like a bitch. I blew on it, stomach again dropping like a stone as I realized there was no way I'd sleep through a burn, even a minor one.

With the rest of the house's occupants elsewhere, I conducted a proper search of the kitchen. Having no idea how long I'd be stuck in this… situation… I tried to remember where everything was. Or, at least, the important stuff.

Turned out the spoons were in a drawer on the other side of the island.

The coffee had cooled by the time I got sugar into it. A digital clock on the fridge read the time as twenty minutes after seven. If Bonnie was picking Elena up, it probably wouldn't be much longer before she was here. I was pretty sure most schools started at eight. Give the girls fifteen to twenty to get there and find their home rooms—Bonnie was probably on her way right now.

High school. Again.

I grimaced into the mug before taking a longer drink. Did I have to go? I could claim I'd gotten sick. Then I remembered Jenna's frantic need to be helpful, to get her two charges sent off fed and ready for the day. Even if she wasn't real, she'd seemed real enough. I didn't like disappointing people in general. I really hated the idea of disappointing someone working so hard to make sure things went well for—well, Elena, technically. Which was me. For now.

Besides, this might not last. Elena would have an easier time adjusting if her attendance didn't take a nosedive.

Or maybe this was a lucid hallucination and I was wasting my time.

I set the mug down and rubbed a hand down my face. Well, what else would I do? Watch television? Play games? Might as well play along. I didn't know what was happening. Seemed safest to go along with what I knew. Disrupt as little as possible.

But man. High school.

With as much excitement as a sewage treatment tech headed off to work, I trumped up the stairs and back towards Elena's room. I remembered which one it was. Granted, mostly because I'd left the door open and rock music was emanating from the other closed door. Yeah. That was definitely Jeremy's room.

Back in Elena's domain, I hunted around for a backpack. If the girl had her outfit laid out, I was willing to bet she'd had her school supplies ready to go to.

Sure enough, I found it leaning against the chair tucked under the desk. It was one of those bags that looked like a giant purse or laptop case, but in leather. Really nice. I swung it onto my shoulder and squeezed the straps. They gave a comforting little creak.

I paused to look around for anything else I might need. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I paused to stare. God. This was Elena Gilbert. I mean, I was Elena Gilbert. Headed off to her first day of Junior year.

She'd meet Stefan Salvatore today.

I didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand, I thought Stefan—or Paul Wesley—was ridiculously handsome. On the other, he was a vampire. He was a vampire that tore off people's heads when he got in a feeding frenzy.

It was a great relationship to stream from the comfort of my couch. But _living_ it? Um, no. I didn't like the idea of being the doppelgänger with the magical blood that every male vampire seemed to want for one reason or another.

I was still staring at Elena in the mirror when a chime went off downstairs. Doorbell. Probably Bonnie.

I squeezed the handles of Elena's bag again and just stuffed all the questions and worries back down. I mean, vampires? Doppelgängers? Witches? Werewolves? Curses? I couldn't function if I thought about all this craziness. Who could? What I needed to do was take my dad's most often given advice: Go with the flow.

I retraced my steps back downstairs, but this time didn't turn back towards the kitchen but hurried for the door. A glance through the peephole showed Bonnie freaking Bennett waiting patiently on the other side of the door. A weird sensation of being slightly out of it came over me as I pulled the door open and was greeted with a bright smile.

"Hey!"

"Hi." I tried to return her blinding smile with one of my own.

It must not have gone very well. Bonnie's immediately slipped into a slight frown and furrowed brows of concern. "Nervous?"

I laughed. To my credit, I sounded only a little crazy. "You have no idea." Bonnie Bennett. I was talking to Bonnie Freaking Bennett!

Bonnie fixed another smile on her face, this one far more empathetic. "Ready or not, we'd better get going."

"Okay." My stomach was still flipping. Good thing I hadn't taken Jenna up on her offer of food. I wondered if I should let Jeremy know I was leaving, then figured he wouldn't hear over the music. He probably wouldn't care even if he could.

Stepping out, I shut the door behind me. Jeremy would lock up, wouldn't he? When Bonnie didn't say anything about walking away without locking up myself, I felt my shoulders loosen slightly. I followed dutifully behind her.

The Gilbert's maintained a nice front lawn, and I didn't doubt that the back was as meticulously well kept. The bushes were all evenly trimmed, and the grass had been cut recently. I wondered if it was all Jeremy, or if I shared in the outdoor chores.

We followed the sidewalk to the driveway where Bonnie had parked her blue Prius. We settled in, buckled our belts, and were off with a turn of the engine. Imogen Heap's electronically altered voice filled the car with the chorus of Watcha Say.

Bonnie leaned over and turned down the stereo before straightening back up and shifting the car into drive. I turned my sights to the front windshield, watching as she turned left and headed down the street. I tried to make note of every sign we passed and subsequent turn she made. But I started losing track before we hit what I guessed was Mystic Fall's main street.

The two-story homes turned into brick buildings sporting various signs proclaiming one type of business after another. The street itself was lined with old fashioned black streetlamps rather than the newer curved sort that had dotted the neighborhood. I didn't doubt they were electric, but it was a nice touch. Hanging from the occasional stop light were banners announcing an upcoming festival.

"Night of the Comet," I muttered as we passed beneath another gently rippling advertisement.

"This Thursday. Can you believe it's already here?" Bonnie kept her eyes on the road.

"Nope," I answered in complete honesty. "I cannot."

"Grams says it's a bad omen." Bonnie huffed a scoffing laugh. "She says a _lot_ of things nowadays."

Giving up on following the route to the high school, I turned to look at Bonnie instead. A distinct sensation of déjà vu washed over me. I swallowed before trying for a casual, "Like what?"

I must have succeeded, because Bonnie launched into the topic with gusto. Clearly she'd been waiting to get this off her chest. "All sorts of crazy stuff. Like, apparently, I can see into the future." Her mocking tone left no doubt as to what she thought of that. "Woman's finally lost it, Elena."

"Can you?"

"What?"

I tugged at the seat belt. "See into the future?"

Bonnie glanced at me, brow raised. "If I could, don't you think I'd have a winning lottery ticket in my hand right now?"

"Maybe it doesn't work that way."

"Right." Skepticism dripped off the word. "Not very useful then, is it?"

"I don't know about that."

Bonnie shrugged. "Well, I did predict Heath Ledger. And Obama."

Oh, god. I remembered that line from the show. My mouth went dry and I wiped my hands down my jeans. I cast about for something to say. "How about Trump?"

"Huh?" Bonnie asked, glancing my way before the traffic light turned green.

"Never mind," I muttered before sinking further into the seat. Something about this… why did I remember this so well?

"O-kay." Bonnie shrugged the comment off. "Anyway, Grams says were descended from the Salem witches."

"There weren't any witches in Salem," I muttered.

"Right? That's what I told her. She just gave me this look and says, 'Not that they caught.'" Bonnie huffed. "Convenient, huh?"

"I guess." I glanced at her. "If there were really witches there, though, they probably would've used magic to escape."

"I guess." Bonnie frowned. "Don't tell me you believe Grams' cra—"

A black shape flew straight at the glass, thumping into the windshield. Bonnie and I let out startled shrieks as the thing suddenly disappeared over the roof of the car. Bonnie gave the wheel a sharp turn and slammed on the breaks. We hit our belts as the car came to an abrupt stop.

I didn't realize I was breathing so hard and fast until Bonnie's hand on my shoulder startled the ringing from my ears. "Elena? Oh my god. Are you alright?"

I took a slower, deeper breath. Ignoring the sudden sweat that had broken out over my forehead, I turned with a forced grin. "Yeah," I breathed. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yeah." My voice was stronger that time. "Just startled."

Bonnie collapsed into her seat. "I know!" She leaned forward and looked up at the windshield where a slight smear was the only evidence something had hit the glass. "I swear, it was a huge bird or something." She turned to me, eyes big and pleading. "I didn't see it."

I managed another shaky smile, rubbing a hand across my clavicle, where the belt had caught me. "It's fine. We're fine."

Bonnie frowned. "I know. I just—I figured—" She waved a hand, as if to encompass the whole of the car.

Right. The accident that killed Elena's parents. What had she said? "I, uh. I can't be afraid of cars forever."

I must have gotten it right, because Bonnie's answering grin was far more relaxed. She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. "I predict that this year is going to kick ass. And I predict that all the sad and dark times are over and you are going to be beyond happy."

I remembered that line. It was—so wrong it wasn't even funny. I summoned a smile for her anyway. It was a nice gesture, after all. "I hope so."

But a shiver traveled down my spine. It was real. Somehow, impossibly, it was real.

All of it.

I turned my head towards the passenger window and looked up to one of the signs lining the street.

A black crow looked back and cawed.


	2. Two

**The More Things Change  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Notes:** A quick thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed! It's very encouraging. And to fgjfgjfg who asked if the relationships go on at the same time, I should clarify there isn't any polyamorous relationships in this fic. It's mostly romantic drama. There are other relationships between the other characters too, some canon and some not, but if I listed them all it'd get a bit long. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

**Chapter Two**

The rest of the car ride was filled with innocuous chatter on Bonnie's end. She kept everything light, as if she feared the talk of magic and witches had summoned the crow. Most of it was gossip based. Since I knew of none of these people, I kept my responses monosyllabic when I wasn't nodding.

It wasn't far to the school from what I'd mentally dubbed as 'downtown' Mystic Falls. Less than five minutes, max. Bonnie's Prius joined a mix of cars that looked older to my eyes, but the show had started years ago. For the teens themselves, they had to be nice. I knew there was supposed to be a poorer side of town, but I wasn't seeing much evidence of it in the Mystic Falls High School parking lot.

I grabbed my bag from the backseat and met Bonnie's smile with a less than enthused one of my own. Her brows lifted. "First day of junior year."

"Yeah."

She pocketed her keys before pushing her door open. "Wonder how many committees Caroline's already signed up for."

Bonnie's droll delivery startled a laugh from me as I followed her out. Well. A soft chuckle, really. But it was genuine. "All of them?"

"Please. She's probably started a few new ones." Bonnie shook her head as she paused at the trunk and pushed it open. Her own bag appeared in her hand a moment later. She closed the trunk before slinging it over her shoulder. "And you know she's going to rope us into each and every one."

"Yep." I fell into step beside her as she continued on the topic of Caroline and her obsession with planning committees. A lot of 'remember whens' occupied her side of the conversation as we matriculated with the growing tide of students. I again smiled and nodded, but kept my sights sweeping out across the Mystic Falls High School grounds.

I noticed a lot of curious glances tossed our way, along with a few smiles and the occasional wave that Bonnie—and belatedly me—returned.

Right. Elena had been _that girl_ before her parent's were killed and she descended into vampire drama. My hand tightened on my bag's strap. I was not _that girl_. I was a girl. I blended. The prototypical wallflower. Which I liked.

Before I knew it, my eyes were sketching the seams between the sidewalk, Elena's long hair sliding past my shoulders and hiding my—her—face. I tried to remind myself to keep my head up. That would be more in character. But whenever I'd catch another person looking, and then turn to talk—ugh. Sidewalk it was.

Bonnie didn't seem to notice. Or, more like, care. She carried on the conversation as if she kept up one-sided chats with her quiet friend all the time. It was probably a more recent development, though. What had Elena been writing about at the start of the series? Convincing everyone she was fine? Which meant she hadn't been doing a good job of it prior to the start of the series.

I wondered how often Bonnie had to shoulder the bulk of their friendship since Elena's accident. Hell, going by how often she'd done it on the show, way too much.

The impromptu consideration of Bonnie and Elena's friendship, and how one-sided it had seemed, occupied me all the way into the main building. It wasn't until my feet struck tile instead of concrete, and I caught a heavy glass and metal door before it could hit my face, that I zoned back into my surroundings.

From the loud cacophony of teenage voices, the banging of lockers, the squeak of sneakers on linoleum—it felt like being thrust back in time. I kept close to Bonnie as the river of students parted around her. And me, I suppose. "Where—"

"Gym." Her brows canted. "For our schedules?"

"Oh." I fixed my sights ahead. "Right. Like last year."

"Mhm. So, Ashley was driving Caroline insane. Like, she just could not get the landing. Care being Care starts to think that, maybe, she's doing it on purpose. To sabotage her chance at getting captain, you know? Which is crazy talk. Which I told her."

The trials and travails of Caroline and Bonnie at Cheerleading camp continued all the way down an absurdly long hall. We weren't the only ones. Seemed like the whole school was headed in the same direction.

Eventually we all flowed into what could only have been the prototypical high school gymnasium. Big open room with a tall ceiling and a basketball court painted onto the floor. The bleachers were folded up, pressed against the wall into a giant wooden jigsaw puzzle. Several tables had been set up under one of the basketball hoops, each seating a couple of staff members. Long paper signs were taped behind them, each one proclaiming a year and a part of the alphabet. Lines of students were stretched out in front of them.

I looked for year eleven and almost hunted for S before remembering it was supposed to be G. Unfortunately, this was where Bonnie and I would have to part. The G's were mixed in with the F's.

"Meet you at the doors?" Bonnie offered as we both wandered towards our respective tables.

"Okay." She could probably hear the relief in my voice.

We parted at the lines and I stepped up behind a tall red headed boy dressed in a polo shirt and khakis.

I fiddled with my bag strap, waiting for the line to move, when there was a slight commotion further up the line. A blonde head of hair appeared around the side, and a familiar face from my television screen lit up. "Elena! Hey!"

Holy shit. Caroline.

I couldn't help but smile back, the blonde's enthusiastic grin was so infectious. "Hi," I called, though not very loud and immediately glancing to the side to see if anyone noticed.

Of course they had. Caroline wasn't head of the cheerleading squad for nothing.

A flick of her head sent her immaculate blonde curls over a shoulder before she waved me towards her. "What are you doing?" she laughed. "Come here!"

Another glance around me revealed considerably colder looks than before. I swallowed before aiming a far thinner, close-lipped smile back. "Don't want to cut in line."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "No one cares." She aimed the most potent Bitch Look I'd ever seen at the girl behind her. "Do you care if my friend stands next to me?"

The girl, skinny and pale with a bad case of acne—which gave me an instant connection of deep empathy with her—startled. She quickly shook her head. "No."

"See?" Caroline returned, dismissing her existence. She motioned for me to join her again. "Get over here, Elena!" That tone would brook no argument.

I glanced around me, uncertain, before sidling out of place and nervously moving up. I was careful not to look at the faces of the students I passed.

Caroline pulled me into a hug the moment I was within arm's reach. "Oh my god!" she squealed. "I can't believe it. Feels like forever!" She pushed me back before I could do anything but be shifted about like a rag doll. "How are you doing? You okay?"

There was something kind of… performative about the sympathy. Then I remembered that season one Caroline was still a slave to her insecurities. The most major of which being Elena Gilbert. Great. "I'm fine."

She gave me a pursed lip look of disbelief. "Really?"

I drew in a breath and adjusted the strap of my bag, which was now threatening to fall down my arm from all the jostling. "Yep."

She gifted me another big, bright, beauty queen smile. "Great!" Her voice went slightly lower—though that wasn't saying much. "Have you seen Matt yet?"

"No."

"Wait till you do. He's so obviously pining."

Okay. Not sure what to say to that, I nodded.

"I hear he's been like that all summer."

More gossip. Great. "Oh."

"Yep." Caroline seemed disappointed I wasn't more into this tidbit of information. But, never one to admit defeat, she rebounded with another smile. It looked forced. "We missed you at cheer camp."

"Bonnie was just telling me about it."

Caroline's smile wavered. "She was?" She blinked. "What about it?"

Crap. I searched through the dazed haze that covered my mind throughout the fog of madness that had been the entirety of my day so far. "Ashley? Sabotaging you?"

Caroline's eyes narrowed to slits, her arms crossed, and she leaned into her hip. "Either that, or she's completely incompetent. I have no idea how she got on the squad in the first place." She glanced off to the side in thought. "Maybe it was a pity thing."

"Pity thing?"

"Yeah. Because of the divorce." Her voice screamed, 'duh.' She scoffed. "As if that's so special. My mom and dad divorced. You don't see _me_ fumbling every landing." A frightening sort of intensity lit up her face. "I actually practice so I don't look like an idiot."

"Practice is good," seemed like something neutral to respond with.

"Which is why I'm concerned about you, Elena," Caroline's transformation from wrathful bitch to anxious friend happened so quick, I got whiplash. "You missed so much." She gave another doleful put. "I'm worried."

Yeah. She ought to be. Running was one thing, and I enjoyed cardio. Jumping and spinning and being all 'Rah Rah!' though? Nope. Not happening. But didn't Elena quit cheerleading? In fact, wasn't this conversation supposed to happen with Damon around? And didn't Elena meet Caroline back at school for the first time at the lockers?

While the questions settled uncomfortably in the back of my mind, the student in front of Caroline finished. "We'll talk more later," Caroline promised. At my nod, she gave a final smile and turned around, striding up to the table with more confidence then I think I've ever experienced in the entirety of my life.

I mulled over the differences between what I remembered and what had just happened until Caroline finished receiving her schedule. She gave a rippling finger wave to me as she strode off to the doors. I smiled back. Already my cheeks were starting to smart from all the faux grins I was pulling this morning.

Stepping up to the table, I discovered all I had to do was give Elena's name and they were rifling through a stack of papers. I had my hands on her class list and a padlock for a locker before I could give much thought to the change I'd already wrought. So I'd run into Caroline early and had a minor conversation about cheerleading? What did it matter?

I returned to the doors and leaned against the wall as I waited for Bonnie to get her schedule. By the time she joined me, another ten minutes had gone by. Apparently our first period class wasn't going to do much in the way of work. Which was good, since it was Trig.

Nothing like math first thing in the morning.

On the positive side of things, Bonnie was in the same class. As we compared schedules, we walked side by side through the halls and searched for our lockers. Bonnie spotted hers first and dropped off her bag. Mine was next, not that far from Bonnie's, but I chose to keep my bag with me. Call me weird, but I liked having something capable of carrying all my crap around with me.

Task complete, we were on our way to our first class when Bonnie grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop beside her. "Hold up. Who's this?"

Bonnie stared down the hall through a set of open doors into what looked like some administrative room. I doubted she meant the woman seated behind the desk, flipping through a folder of papers. More like the tall guy in the leather jacket standing in front of it. Broad shouldered. Wide stance. Brown hair. Sunglasses…

I squeezed the strap at my shoulder, hard enough that the stiff leather bent with a creak. "No idea," I lied.

"Too bad." Bonnie's ran an appraising eye from top to bottom. "He's hot."

And with his enhanced senses, he'd heard that. Uncomfortable, I watched as Stefan took off his sunglasses. The shades dangled from his fingers as he stared down into the administrator's eyes. Still as stone, she stared back several seconds before starting to move again.

Compulsion. He'd compelled her. Mind control was an actual thing that happens here. That man was an actual vampire. And not just any vampire, but a Ripper. The hair on my arms rose.

Oblivious, Bonnie added, "I'm sensing Seattle, and he plays the guitar."

She mustn't be witchy enough yet to pick up on his—aura, I suppose. If I remembered right, she'd have to touch Stefan before she felt anything off. "Not really into the grunge thing, myself," I muttered. And while vampires were fun to read and watch on the screen, standing a few feet away from one... Well. Ironically, my heart was starting to pound.

Bonnie grinned. "You're doubting me."

"Never." I mustered a wan smile.

"Jeremy, good batch, man."

The off-hand remark from a voice behind us that I didn't recognize, shouting a line that I sort of did, drew my attention. Searching over my shoulder, I found Jeremy. Apparently, he hadn't lied about the ride. He grinned somewhere into the crowd before ducking into the boy's bathroom. Frowning, I turned back around.

Right. Elena had followed her brother into the bathroom and chastised him. Tried to talk sense into him. It didn't work, because of course it wouldn't. But it was as she'd left the bathroom that she'd run straight into Stefan for the first time. Spoke to him.

Alone.

Yeah. No. That wasn't going to happen.

Bonnie was still studying Stefan's back. "Please be hot."

I shifted my bag further up my shoulder before glancing around at the other students still walking the hall. "Shouldn't we get to class?"

"In a sec."

Standing in front of a random doorway, staring at Stefan, waiting for him to turn around? Not weird at all. But I could hardly leave Bonnie. Not to mention I didn't know the way. So there I stood, awkward as hell, as the rest of the students streamed around us like we were rocks slicing apart the currents of some rushing river. "Isn't this kind of creepy?"

"Shh."

I pressed my lips together with a single, short nod. Right then. Creeping on the new guy it was.

Fortunately, it wasn't too much longer before he finished and turned around. He had his head tilted down, hooking his sunglasses to his collar. Of course, Bonnie had already started drawing in a startled breath. Even though I knew what he'd look like, that he was basically a supernatural predator, I was tempted to join her. He raised his head, putting the chiseled splendor of his face on display for all to see. Stefan Salvatore was a sigh-worthy sight to behold in person. Especially when those brooding eyes landed on me, widening slightly as his thick but perfectly groomed brows lifted.

His stare stayed pointed at me—or Elena—as he strode by. Going so far as to turn his head slightly as he passed us to keep me in his sights. I caught a hint of expensive cologne as Stefan came near enough that our sleeves almost brushed. The surreality of the moment almost sent me floating off into some mini version of astral projection. But all my nerves had woke up at his passing, anchoring me to my borrowed body as it tingled all the way to my toes. I did manage not to spin completely around, like Bonnie did, as he moved further down the hall. It was a near thing.

"Oh. My. God." Bonnie rounded back. "Worth it."

I swallowed. Why couldn't he look like a monster? "Class?"

She snapped her sights to me and stared as if I were crazy. "Your dedication to academics over ridiculously cute boys is inspiring, Elena." She shook her head. "But also? Kind of sad."

"Yeah." I shrugged, adjusting my bag's strap again. "So?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes but smiled. "If we must." Her arm threaded through mine and she tugged me back into the flow of students. "Let's go."

My mind stayed stuck on Stefan Salvatore as I followed Bonnie to the classroom, and well into the start. So did Bonnie's, if her sighs and constant wondering about the 'new hottie' was anything to go by. Unlike Bonnie, I wasn't just musing over his insanely good looks. Not entirely. I was only human, and holy shit Stefan was a beautiful monster. But he was a monster. He wasn't an early Damon, Katherine, or Klaus, but he wasn't innocent, either. There was as wall with a list of names in Chicago. Not to mention the asshole he became after Klaus got his claws into his head.

And I was stuck in the body of the girl who looked _exactly_ like the woman who'd turned him. Worse, the Amara to his Silas. Fan-freaking-tastic.

I tried to put my mind off it. I felt pretty de-whammied by the time our introduction to Trig was over.

So of course, there he was in my next class. English.

I scurried in because it'd taken forever for me to find without Bonnie backup. He was already seated near the back—next to a very pleased Caroline. He watched me hurry towards the only vacant seat left at the very front. To be fair, everyone watched me rush in and interrupt the teacher.

I swallowed as I sat down, kept my eyes staring straight ahead at the chalkboard.

I could hear him, though. Well, I heard Caroline mostly. Hard not to. Occasionally there would be that mellow voice answering. God, how did a person _sound_ gorgeous? It wasn't fair. Serial killer wall. Eater of bunnies. Ripper of people.

Of course, reminding myself of all his gruesome deeds wasn't exactly helping me to keep calm, either. I was a mess however I chose to look at it. Either I was another girl drooling over his stupid perfectness, or I was terrified he was going to snap and eat the whole class—though that last was foolish of me. I knew he wasn't that bad. At least, he wasn't on the show. He wouldn't be now. 'Course not.

Maybe if there had been anything interesting going on in the class I would've had an easier time keeping my mind off the vampire seated in the back. But all that happened was a lecture on the syllabus and class expectations and blah blah. The most exciting thing was when the books were passed out. I'd always enjoyed any subject having to do with reading, in high school or college. But the problem with high school lit classes is the list doesn't change. A glance and I knew I'd be re-reading a lot of 'classics,' only a few of which I liked.

Great. Stuck in this world, and with a boring stack of books to boot.

I raced out of class as soon as it was over, letting Caroline manipulate all of Stefan's attention. Also, I didn't want a repeat of being the last one in again. This time I stopped someone in the hall and asked where my next class was. After dropping my books off at my locker, which was on the way, I managed to make it to Biology with minutes to spare.

Unfortunately it was a class I shared with Tyler Lockwood.

He was never a favorite of mine on the show. From my first impression in real life, he was even more of a jerk. The entire time he talked and laughed, even blew spitballs at one of his teammates. The poor teacher didn't do anything but smile and nervously laugh along. Being a star football player and the son of the Mayor, I guess no one besides vampire hunter Ric Saltzman was interested in disciplining the kid.

I was thoroughly annoyed by the end of the class and could tell it was going to be a regular occurrence if this weird—situation—didn't end anytime soon. On the plus side, I wasn't alternatively daydreaming and fretting over Stefan Salvatore while I was fuming about Tyler Lockwood.

It wasn't until fourth period that I met up with Bonnie again in History.

I was so relieved to be sitting beside her, listening to how her classes had gone so far, that I didn't pay much attention as the other kids trickled in and sat down.

Not even when a somewhat familiar voice said, "Hey, Elena."

Bonnie's eyes widened, chin jerking towards the space behind me. Blinking, I remembered Elena was now me and swung about. Matt Donavan hovered near my desk, a strained smile on his face. "Matt. Hi."

"Been a while." He spun a pencil around his fingers. "How was your summer?"

Seeing as he thought he was talking to Elena, I had no idea. Bad, if I had to guess. Given her parents had just died. Still, I summoned another smile. It was getting easier. Ironically, it seemed I was as stuck playing the 'I'm just fine and dandy,' game as she'd been on the show. "Fine. Yours?"

"Alright." He shrugged and glanced down before lifting his sights back up to me. He obviously had something on his mind. I waited. "You still on for the Grill tonight?" When my brows scrunched together, he was quick to add, "Y'know. Everyone's usual meetup after the first day back."

"Yeah. 'Course. Wouldn't want to mess with tradition." That'd draw attention. Something I was trying very hard not to do.

His smile turned more genuine. "Cool." He cleared his throat and nodded. I nodded back, smile growing strained as I held it for a longer beat than the usual. He seemed to decide to just leave then, moving back to sit behind Bonnie. The two shared their own hellos.

Drama. I blew out a breath, slipping further down the hard back of my chair, wondering if the day could possibly get more awkward. The universe chose to answer by having Stefan Salvatore stride into the class at that moment. Naturally, like the earth pulled by the inevitable gravitation of the freaking sun, his gaze flew right to me.

I straightened back up, trying to smooth away any traces of annoyance. Just like the hallway, his stare stayed rooted to mine. I had no idea how he managed to find an empty desk, given he kept staring at me rather than looking for a place to sit. Maybe some sort of vampire sense, like listening for heartbeats or pulsating necks.

I hardly had room to judge. Even after the class started, I watched him too. I did try to keep it to don't-mind-me-just-bored-and-gazing-around-the-room peeks. Hard to do, given his gaze was constantly directed my way. But I couldn't help but look for some sign of—inhumanness. Apart from being a shade or two paler from the rest of the class, nothing stood out.

No, that wasn't true. He stood out, alright. But as far as creepy vibes? Nothing. If one could manage the herculean task of setting aside his amazing looks, he seemed normal. Apart from constantly staring at me, anyway. That was definitely off. Or, rather, the real me. I suppose someone as gorgeous as Elena wouldn't be surprised by the attention. Not that I'd never been on the receiving end myself, but not by anyone who looked like a freaking model.

Just to hammer in the point of how obvious he was being, my phone vibrated. Checking that the teacher wasn't watching, I flipped the older style case open to find a text message from Bonnie.

_HAWT-E STARING U_

Yeah, thanks. I'd have to be blind not to notice. Or focused on the lesson. Which, for once in an academic setting, I wasn't. Right now, I couldn't give a damn about history. Another first.

Thankfully, the class was the same welcome back here's your syllabus do your homework etcetera that the rest had been. Bonnie caught up to me after the bell signaled the end of our torture. She shared a look of girlish conspiracy as we walked out ahead of Stefan. "The whole time," she said quietly.

"Noticed."

Bonnie grinned. "Lucky."

The insane urge to burst into tearful laughter swept through me. I held it back with a non-committal hum. "Lunch?"

"Lunch."

The rest of the day was Stefan free. I don't know where he went to eat. The woods that seemed to creep around every few blocks in this town? Caroline joined Bonnie and I at the table. A few other girls, Madison and Sarah, along with a guy named Aaron, sat with us too. Which surprised me. But when I thought about it, it made sense. Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline could hardly have only each other as friends. They were just the closest and what the show must've chosen to focus on.

I couldn't get much of an impression of the other three. I gathered the girls were cheerleaders and Aaron was on the team with the other guys. I did pick up that he and Madison were a thing, which explained why he was sitting with us rather than over with Tyler's wolf pack.

Either way, I was able to sit back and let the rest of the table control the conversation. They seemed fine letting me stay quiet, joking back and forth and listening to Caroline's plans for the upcoming festival. Which I was roped into—flyer duty. I didn't fight. Some fates are simply inevitable.

The rest of my classes were a rotation of the various other characters, but no Stefan. By the time the end of the school day had crept around, I was left loading my books into my bag, a light load of assigned reading to do for tomorrow but not a lot else.

Bonnie was back, leaning up against the neighboring locker. "Sorry I can't give you a ride to the cemetery."

I paused. What? Why the hell would I—

Oh, right. Grieving girl. "It's fine." Well, hell. No way was I going to the cemetery. I could find my way back to Elena's house. Sure.

I struggled to remember where all the turns Bonnie had taken were. Main street, as I'd come to think of it as, would be easy enough to get to. I could find my way from there. Probably.

I hoped I didn't look as freaked out as I felt as I smiled at Bonnie. This must've been one of those things the two girls had arranged before. "Thanks for taking me this morning."

Bonnie gave me a look that said, 'don't even,' "'Course." She gave me a one-armed hug before straightening back up. "Say hi to your mom and dad for me."

"I will." Nope. Not going to happen because you couldn't _pay_ me to go to a cemetery with vampires lurking around every corner. Mostly because that's where Elena first 'encounters' Damon. And runs into Stefan. While bleeding.

Yeah. No. Nope.

Bonnie and I separated with waves and promises to meet up later tonight at the Grill. I was curious where she was off to but didn't know a way to ask without making it clear I didn't already know. I had a feeling it was one of those things Elena shouldn't need to ask.

Instead, I hitched my bag up and set off for the 'main street' of Mystic Falls. If I could get to the corner where Damon had scared the crap out of us, I figured I could find my way back. After all, I knew where he and Stefan were going to be. Exactly where I _wasn't_.

No freaky fog or bloody knees for this girl!

Fortunately, it was a nice day out, and Mystic Falls was a beautiful town—when it wasn't being overrun with supernatural creatures. There was a ton of greenery around, even in the paved business district. Granted, it was mostly maintained greenery, but it was still lovely. Especially with the woods never further than a stone's throw away.

I found the main road easily enough. Learned it was Washington Street. Following it, I found it led right to City Hall and the infamous clock tower. The park that had been featured on quite a few early episodes was only a few blocks down. And then, there was the Grill. Its green banner flapped in the afternoon breeze. I stood for a few moments to just—soak in the wonder. I'd actually be visiting later tonight.

Of course, since I wasn't going to the cemetery, that meant I wouldn't lose Elena's journal. Stefan wouldn't have a reason to stop by. Which means he wouldn't know about the gathering and have no reason to go. That was good.

It was.

Frustrated that I didn't feel like it was entirely good, I huffed at myself and sped up, no longer so enamored with the kitschy little town. But the longer I walked, the more I wondered if I'd missed the turn Bonnie had taken.

By the time the shops were behind me with houses sprouting up to either side of the street and the ever-present woods on the horizon, I wondered if I should just go back. Visit one of the stores and ask for directions. Wasn't everybody supposed to know everybody in a town like this? 'Course, if anyone should know the way to the Gilbert's house, it would probably be someone who'd lived there her whole life. Be odd to ask. Wasn't sure if I wanted rumors of Elena spacing out or acting weird getting around.

Blowing out an annoyed breath, I pulled the phone from my pocket. A vague notion that I might find someone to give me a ride. With the occasional glance up to make sure I didn't stray off the sidewalk, I navigated my way to the contact list. Most of the names were unfamiliar. Bonnie's was the first I recognized, but obviously couldn't call. I had nearly made it through the 'E's, wondering how on earth this girl had so many numbers—just my luck to Quantum Leap into an extroverted popular cheerleader—when a, "CAW!" startled me.

I spun around, sights sweeping around the street. Perched on a nearby streetlamp was the crow from this morning. Or so I assumed. I suppose it could've been an entirely different crow but—c'mon. What were the chances? It cocked its head at me, beady eye gleaming, before it cawed again.

My heart sped up, gut clenching in dismay. Damon. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be waiting at the cemetery! I know I remembered that part of the pilot. I looked around, wondering if I'd wandered near the graveyard by accident, but there wasn't a headstone anywhere nearby. Another insistent, "CAW!" demanded my attention. Giving in, I found the damn bird watching me.

Damon—if it was Damon, and I had no reason to believe it wasn't—had to be stalking me. Elena. Whoever.

And Stefan was probably lingering around the cemetery, right where he was supposed to be.

I swallowed. Like Stefan, Damon was the real-world equivalent of a serial killer. Unlike Stefan, at the start of the series, he didn't give a damn if Elena lived or died. Nor did he share Stefan's diet that only threatened small woodland creatures. Damon reveled in his violent nature, gave in to his murderous whims. A temperamental thrill seeker who had no fear of getting caught.

I turned, noticed how thin the traffic was. I'd managed to get far enough from the business district that I'd past the last of the shops a block back. Another, "CAW!" made me jump. I drew in a breath, lips falling into a frown, before I doubled back for the shopping center behind me.

He wouldn't attack me in broad daylight, in front of a store full of people. Right?

I hurried down the sidewalk, the crow's relentless caws chasing me the whole way. It felt as if I could feel someone's stare crawling over my skin. My heart rate skyrocketed and my blood pounded in my ears. It had to make for a siren song to the vampire watching me.

A loud flutter of wings beside me had me looking down towards a bench anchored to the sidewalk. The crow had perched on an armrest and cawed up at me. I turned away, fixing my gaze back to the approaching stores.

I sped up to a near sprint and rushed into the first shop I saw.

Once I was safely past the door, I spun to peer back through it's glass display. Heart still hammering, I pressed my hand to my chest, willing it to slow down as I searched for the bird stalking me. And fuck my life for making that a thing I had to worry about now. Finding nothing outside, I gulped down a breath and stepped back around.

Hands grabbed my arms. I gasped as I found myself staring up into pale blue eyes, freezing me in place. The corners of those eyes crinkled as Damon Salvatore grinned down at me. "Whoa." He let go, holding his hands up with palms out as if to prove he was harmless. I knew better and stepped back.

How? I'd just been at the door! I'd been staring through its damn window!

I risked taking my eyes off his long enough for my gaze to dart around the rest of the store. Antiques. Lots of places to hide but... No, there. Another door at the back of the shop, drifting shut.

It had to be over a hundred feet away!

I refused to believe that it was possible anyone could move so fast. Weirdly, it was easier to accept the man could control a bird than flash across the store in the blink of an eye.

My sights snapped back on him, watching every move he made. As if I'd ever get enough warning. Futile or not, I couldn't help it. It was if some primal instinct was in control. And right now, it was screaming danger!

His head tilted, eerily reminiscent of the bird he'd been puppeting. His bangs were long—and messy—enough that a bit fell over his eye. His handsome face fixed into a mien of nonchalance that didn't quite quench the excited sparkle in eyes. Like sunlight reflecting of a frozen lake, it was almost blinding staring directly into them. All of him was as picture perfect as a winter landscape, and yet, as remote. Cold and barren.

The sensation of wrongness I'd sought earlier in Stefan I found in Damon. In spades. I felt it right in my gut, where it squirmed like a tangled ball of worms. Made me itch to find an exit. Get away. Even as he asked, "You okay?"

I wasn't alone. The shop keeper, an older man, stood behind the counter. Unaware of the danger, he sent me a polite smile before turning back to the computer sitting beside the register. The rest of the place was a claustrophobic nightmare. Display tables packed narrowly together, covered in every kind of knick-knack imaginable. It'd be a mess to try and run through. Despair threatened to squeeze the air from my lungs. He was the only other human in the place. That wasn't going to stop a vampire who could compel him to forget. Or kill us both before we even knew what was happening.

Heart thumping so hard I was surprised my ribs weren't rattling, I summoned the steadiest smile I was able to and nodded. "Yeah. Just," a drew a breath through my nose, "startled. Should have been paying attention." Like that would've helped.

The bastard's mouth curled into a playful smile. "Sorry." He didn't sound it. At all. His tall legs brought him a step closer. Fully in the center of his attention, I couldn't help feel like a mouse under the bobbing head of a snake. "You ran in here so fast, I thought you were in trouble."

I squeezed the strap on my book bag, holding the smile on my face before shaking my head. "No." I lied. "It's—I'm fine. Really."

Damon leaned to the side, pleasure slipping into those animated eyes. Too animated. Like he was exaggerating his expressions. "That's a relief." He smiled as he took another step, putting him within arm's reach. "Pretty little thing like you," the curve of his lips turned thin and wicked before he added, "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something…bad…happened."

Knowing what I did about him, I couldn't help but hear an implied threat. The corners of my already brittle smile tried to slide right down. I willed them to stay up, though it probably came off as a tad bit rictus.

He didn't seem to notice. Or, more likely, care. "I'm Damon, by the way." He held out a hand.

I didn't want to take it. Would it set him off if I didn't? Make him suspicious that I knew more than I should about him? But the moment was stretching towards too long. My mind gave off an inner scream I slipped my hand into his. He had to have noticed my palm was clammy as it met his. He didn't seem bothered by it. On the contrary, his eyes darkened.

Bothered by the implications, I focused on the softness of his skin. I'd expected him to be colder. Stiff like my grandmother's hand had been when I'd tried curling mine over it as I'd stood by her coffin. Damon's felt very alive. The muscles and bones all shifted as he gave a gentle squeeze, the borrowed blood in his veins warming his skin. "Elena."

"Elena. Hm." His eyes narrowed. "Sure you're okay, Elena?"

"Yeah." I made to pull my hand back, relieved when he didn't try to hold on. "I, um. I saw a bird." His brows flew up. I inwardly cursed him to hell. Since magic existed here, I hoped it'd work. Recalling a line from the show, I said, "It was very Hitchcock."

"A girl who can make a classic horror reference. Nice." Seeing how well known The Birds and Hitchcock were, I didn't think it was all that impressive. I couldn't decide if he was trying to flatter me, or if his opinion of teenagers—of humans in general—was that low. "If you're worried, I'd be happy to walk you home." He leaned closer, and it took everything in me not to draw away. His voice lowered as if he meant to share a secret. "I make a great scarecrow."

Oh hell no. "That's... really nice of you to offer." My bag's strap let out a tortured creak as my hand flew to it and squeezed. "But, I'm—waiting. For my aunt. She's picking me up soon."

"Mm." His smile stretched a little wider before he looked straight into my eyes and said, "But she's running late, isn't she? It'll be a while before she gets here."

I blinked, glancing around towards the window as I realized, "Jenna's probably running late, though. I don't know when she'll get here." Especially as she had no idea where I was. Or that I'd need her to pick me up.

Damon smiled. Soon as our eyes met, he was speaking again with that same intense stare, "You want me to walk you home."

Given all the dangerous things lurking around Mystic Falls, who better to keep away the monsters than a psycho vampire that had already killed several people since coming to town? "I want you to walk me home." Wait, that didn't seem right. After a moment, I added, "If you don't mind." There. Shouldn't assume things. That would be rude.

Damon's answering grin was all sunshine. Cold, wintry sunshine. "Of course not." He swept out an arm in an old fashioned, gentlemanly gesture. "After you, Miss Gilbert."

Had I told him that? No. Damon must've been stalking Elena well before this morning. He'd know where she lived, then! I smiled at him before leading him through the door.


	3. Three

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** This is where all those warnings for mind control and disturbing themes involving consent are coming from. Please take note and skip this chapter if such topics are too disturbing.

**Chapter Three**

Damon held the door open and waved me through with a lopsided smirk.

"Thank you." I stepped past. Entering the sunshine, I wondered if this was going to be the last time I felt it on my face. If he killed me, would I wake up?

Sure I would. How else to explain this whole crazy day?

He moved directly behind me. "Don't worry." His breath was as warm as the hands resting on my shoulders. I didn't smell blood. Shouldn't I have smelt blood? "I'll make sure no nasty crows get near you."

If I turned my head my nose would brush against his cheek. My pulse pounded. "I never said it was a crow."

I felt a gentle squeeze and the strap of my bag slid down my arm. The breath left my cheek as he wandered ahead. My bag thumped against his back as he held it over his shoulder. I exhaled.

I'd asked him to walk me home. At least he knew where he was going. The opposite direction from where I'd been heading, naturally. I hurried after him, boots clacking on the sidewalk.

I wondered if it was annoying to move at human speed when he could outrun a car. Why had he bothered driving on the show? Maybe he couldn't sustain that kind of pace for long before running out of 'juice' and needing to feed. Didn't his abilities depend on feeding on human blood? Reasoned he'd be weakened if he used those powers too much.

"Penny for your thoughts."

His profile was on full display as he waited for my answer. He was majestic. High-boned cheeks and masculine jaw leading to a commanding chin. Arrogance in the smug lift of his smirking lips. Damn these Salvatore men and their perfect bone structure. "Nothing, really."

He spun around to face me but kept walking, just backwards. "Oh, come on, Elena. I want to know."

"Why?"

The black leather jacket stretched over his shoulders as he shrugged. "I want to know how that mind works."

"Badly."

A brow ticked upward. "Now that's an interesting if melodramatic answer." He leaned forward, still not missing a step. "What's so bad about it?"

"Let's just say I haven't felt like myself lately." I wondered if he intended to walk the whole way like that. Wasn't he nearly two hundred?

"Uh, boring."

"Sorry."

"You should be." He straightened. "You piqued my interest and then failed to deliver." He tsked.

If he only knew. Scrunching my shoulders, I slid my hands into my jacket's pockets. "Story of my life."

"There you go with the melodrama again." He whirled back around and shortened his stride to keep pace with me. "But you won't fool me twice."

"Good for you. What's wrong with your life that you'd waste your time with me?" Wasn't that the million-dollar question? I had a pretty good idea of the answer. Damon had pined after Katherine for over a century. He'd be as curious as Stefan about the human girl with his long-lost love's face.

"Wow. That's harsh. You seem like perfectly pleasant company to me." We came to the first turn and I noted the street. Laurel.

"I figured you'd have better things to do."

"Not at the moment." He twisted around again, but didn't fully turn, just looked over his other shoulder. When he faced back ahead, he was grinning. "Besides," he brought up his free arm and settled it over my shoulders, "you're providing _plenty_ of entertainment," he said as he hugged me to his side.

I started at the planes of hard muscle suddenly pressed up against me. The smell of leather and sun, aftershave and man enveloped me, but Damon kept me moving. He guided me around another corner. Which was good, because I was pretty sure my brain had melted into a puddle of useless goo. At the same time, I was conscious of the danger. Not all the hyperawareness for the man beside me was born of want.

I was too flummoxed by the jumble of conflicting feelings to take note of the street sign.

It didn't get better when he leaned down to talk against the top of my head again. "I can see why he's so smitten."

I was about to ask what he was talking about when my surroundings penetrated the fog created by the firm feel of his body. I realized where he was leading me.

The street led up a gentle hill, one lined by a few single-story houses, but it was what lay at the top that caught my notice.

The woods. Spread out around the hill, the trees grew thick and tall, so much so that I couldn't see what lay inside. It was so dense the forest practically formed a canyon where the road cut a path through. These were old woods and had probably stood back when the Originals were human. Even from here, I could see it was dark beneath its ancient canopy.

I stiffened beneath his arm. "I thought we were going to my house." Elena's voice came out small and hesitant.

Damon gave a closed mouth chuckle before he answered with, "Shortcut."

Visions of Vicki's arm hanging out of the exposed side of a mudslide in the middle of the forest popped into my head. "I don't like it." I tried to stop.

"Oh, don't be like that." I swear I could hear Damon's eyeroll. He maneuvered me around, the hand holding my bag falling to his side. Fingers pinching my chin, he tugged my face up until I met his stare. "You want to take the shortcut through the woods."

I'd already missed one of the street signs. I could always memorize the route tomorrow when Bonnie or Jenna or whoever took me to Mystic Falls High. If this got me back to Elena's faster, then what was the harm? It wasn't like anything could hurt Damon. His hold was light enough that I could nod. "You're right."

"I know," he smirked. Tucking me back into his side, he slung my bag over his other shoulder.

He kept me pressed up against him the entire way to the forest, only lifting his arm from my shoulders once he'd guided me off the road and onto the grassy shoulder. He held out a hand as the trees loomed over us. I had wanted him to take me to Elena's, hadn't I? With that thought in mind, I took it. He rewarded me with a crooked smile that would've been sweet if not for the gleam of victory in his eyes.

He pulled me into the dim world beneath the trees.

What light that managed to filter through the thick canopy of rustling leaves was tinged a soft green. Without any path, manmade or otherwise, the underbrush was thick, tangled, and crunched underfoot. The brush had grown waist high. Spiderwebs stretched across whole tree trunks or low hanging branches. Sinkholes lay hidden beneath a carpet of leaf and moss and loam that my boots sank into with every step. The scent of earth overpowered the light perfume I'd spritz on that morning. A strange taste lingered in every breath of air, something oaky and rustic.

Despite the uneven ground, Damon kept me upright. Even when my foot had landed in what must have been a burrow, his hold stopped me from falling. He led me away from all the long grasses tipped with burrs. He waited patiently while I hopped down from logs or held my arm as I shuffled down a steep hillside.

"Some shortcut," I breathed some way into our impromptu hike. Thankfully Elena was in good shape.

"It's either this or take the long way around the town to avoid a few trees."

"A few trees," I grumbled, grabbing his bicep when a flat, long rock I'd stepped wobbled.

He jerked his arm, pulling me forward. I tilted too far, lost my balance. I'd barely gasped when he caught me, hands on my waist and our bodies flush as he stared down at me with a devilish grin. "Don't complain." He let his head dip close enough that I could feel his breath brush against my lips. "Or I'll let you find your own way out."

Flustered, I was about to tell him I hadn't wanted to come in the first place when a crack echoed throughout the trees. It came from behind. My hands gripped Damon's shoulders a bit tighter.

He was staring off into the trees with an entirely too self-satisfied expression on his face. I didn't like it.

I opened my mouth to ask what he was so pleased about—

The woods were gone, replaced by a grotesquely cheerful suburban landscape of two-story houses and shining minivans parked by impeccably manicured lawns. My palms were burning, my knee ached every time my weight settled on it, and my throat felt scraped raw. I lifted my hands, turning my palms up. Formerly unblemished skin was marred by scratches, streaks of dirt and imprints of bits of rock and debris. How? I was fine a moment ago. My smarting knee drew my gaze down to my legs, where I found dirt and grass stains streaked across my jeans.

Damon wasn't holding my book bag anymore.

I searched the ground. Damon noticed and grinned. My heart sped up, my sights zeroing back in on the vampire strolling along beside me. He wasn't as pristine as he'd been moments ago. His shirt was wrinkled and ripped at the bottom. His hair more mused than it had been. It was hard to tell, but I thought a patch of his black jeans was darker than the rest. Like he'd spilt something over his thigh. In the middle of the stain was a hole in the denim. The edges looked puckered with bits of dirt and—was that part of a leaf?

Something had happened. I turned my head, facing straight ahead, trying to keep the panic from showing on my face. But, of course, my pulse was racing. He had to hear it. I couldn't help it. He'd done something to my memory. Compelled me to forget how I'd gotten hurt and lost my bag. Why he looked disheveled all the sudden. How we moved from the forest in the span of a second.

Discrete as I could manage, I stretched my neck side to side. No pain. There'd be pain if he'd bitten me. I still had other marks, so he hadn't given me blood. And apart from my palms and my knees, I didn't hurt anywhere else. I don't think he fed on me.

Knowing something had happened but not being able to recall it, I couldn't help but dwell on the blank in my memory. A whole span of time, gone just like that. I wiped a hand across my forehead, finding I'd broken out into another bout of cold sweat. The reality of compulsion hit me in the gut like a sack of bricks. Damon could make me do anything—do anything to me—and make me forget. My stomach clenched until I felt sick, and I had to breathe slow and deep to keep myself calm. All the terrible possibilities ran through my head. I must've fallen. Somehow, he had mussed up his clothes. Had I done it? Had he attacked me?

"Hmm." His voice sent a shiver down my spine. I was afraid to look over. "Everything alright?"

I shouldn't know about compulsion. I needed some other reason to be anxious. I mustered the courage to look at him. It should have been easy to stare at him. He was easily the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. Considering the competition he had in Mystic Falls that was saying something. Even so, I couldn't help but think about the control he had over me. It took a lot of the shine off the pretty packaging. "Where'd my bag go? I thought you had it."

"Bag?" His brows dipped together, but I didn't buy his thoughtful expression. His eyes hadn't shifted to the side like they're supposed to do when someone's accessing their memories, for one. I'd have noticed since that intense stare of his never left mine. "I don't remember you carrying one."

Liar. I knew I'd had Elena's bag. I'd been squeezing its strap when he'd cornered me in the store. I'd watched him carrying it around for me. Now, my palm stung as I forgot the scratches and squeezed my hand where its strap had been since this morning, palm stinging as my nails dug into the sore flesh. I ignored the pain, but let my hand relax. "Guess I forgot it at school."

He hummed before nodding off to the side. "Home sweet home."

He was changing the subject, and it was a good distraction, but the lie stuck in my head as I followed his gaze. The two-story white house with wraparound porch and manicured lawn I'd left that morning stood off to the side. I recognized the porch with its distinctive columns.

"And not a bird in sight."

I aimed an unimpressed look at him. He warded it away with an utterly unrepentant grin. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, I pulled my cheeks into a smile. "Thank you for walking me home."

His smirk deepened. "You're very welcome, Elena."

Not sure what else to say, I settled for, "Have a good day," and hurried for the walkway leading to the porch stairs, eager for some walls and a threshold he couldn't cross to be between us.

I can't say I was surprised to hear his footsteps tapping after me. He appeared at my side, brows raised. "Aren't you going to invite me inside?"

Hah! Oh, he was funny. "Um. My aunt's strict about having men over when she's, you know, not." I tried to sound regretful. "Sorry."

A sigh that turned into a groan burst from him as he rolled his eyes. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" His gaze narrowed as we reached the porch and I moved to the steps. I was halted mid-stride by a hand taking my arm and spinning me around. "You're lucky your so cute."

I made to shrug out of his hold, knowing better than to expect to be able to do it through pure force, but hoping he'd take the hint. He didn't. "Let go, Damon." I was proud my voice was so steady.

"Elena. Invite me in."

He had walked me home. I relaxed in his hold as I realized he'd been very considerate. An invitation inside was the least I could do, really. And who knows, maybe he had to use the bathroom. Didn't his body function normally with a regular supply of blood? "Would you like to come in, Damon?"

A truly wicked smirk curled across his face. "Why, I'd just _looove_ to, Elena." He walked up the stairs and stopped next to the door. "Thank you."

I smiled at him before I remembered my bag was gone. My smile fell. "My keys are in my bag."

Damon stared quietly. The awkward moment ended as he hummed a, "Hm. Not a problem," and sauntered over to a flowerpot arranged next to the porch swing.

Visions of it flying through the window filled my head. "Damon? Please don't break any—" my voice trailed off as he stuck his finger into the dirt and rooted around. Within moments he was pulling a slightly dirty key from the soil.

He gave me another odd look as he swiped the dirt off on his jeans before presenting his prize with a little flourish. "Voila."

I plucked it from his hand, avoiding his questioning gaze by busying myself with unlocking the deadbolt.

I had just pushed the door open when it occurred to me—how'd _he_ know it was there?

How long had he been watching Elena? Had he already compelled and interrogated Jenna or Jeremy? Another chill traveled down my spine as he moved directly behind me.

Swallowing I lead the way inside. Damon stepped past the threshold with a satisfied glint in his eyes and a thin, wicked smile on his lips. His gaze roamed across the room and through the open doorways almost hungrily before landing on me. His smile deepened. "You have a lovely home, Elena."

"Thank you," I said softly.

This was a terrible mistake.

I cleared my throat before moving back to the kitchen. "Juice? Coffee? Tea? Water?"

…Why was I offering something to drink to a vampire? I could have kicked myself.

"Coffee sounds great."

I led him over to the island and motioned to a stool. While he settled in, I grabbed a small plastic cup from the rotating rack and sidestepped beside the Keurig.

Chin cradled in his hand, he watched as I set up the brewer, grinning whenever I glanced over. Nerves still jumping, I smiled back before ducking behind Elena's hair. Uncomfortable with the silence, I cast for something to say. "So what do you do besides escort high school girls home?"

Damon affected a wince, sucking in a breath. "Ouch." His eyes widened. "You make it sound so sordid." The smirk was back a moment later. "I'm a man of leisure."

"Which means you laze around all day?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

Coffee set up, all that was left to do was wait. I leaned a hip on the counter. Without anything to keep them busy, my fingers threaded together. "Doesn't that get boring?"

"Not the way I do it."

My eyebrows shot up. His grin turned impish. Despite the fear still lingering in my gut, or maybe because of it, I huffed a breathy laugh before shaking my head. "Okay, Damon."

"You should come over to my place sometime. Skip school. Laze away with me."

No way. "You're not a very good influence, are you?"

"Mm. No. I'm really not." The impish grin doubled in size. "You strike me as a tequila girl."

Genuinely surprised, I shook my head in wonder. "How'd—"

His eyes rolled up. "Please." They lowered to meet mine. "It's all that nervous energy. I'm betting that when you let loose, you don't do it by halves." His grin morphed again, this time turning smug. "Am I right?"

I loosed a breath. "I—yeah."

"It's strange, though." He tapped his chin. "I pictured you… different."

I stilled. "Different?"

I wasn't sure if I pulled off nonchalant, but he didn't seem intent on calling me out as he replied, "Not as depressed as I'd have thought. Jumpier. All that tension I expected. Anyone can see you're carrying waaay too much on your shoulders." He tapped at a cheek with his finger. "You should let some of that go." That devilish grin was back. "So consider this my open invitation."

"Um," I tucked a piece of hair back behind my ear before moving to the cupboard to get the coffee cups. "I'll—maybe." When hell froze over. I'd seen some of his parties. They ended up with girls drained of blood or dead.

"Don't know what you're missing."

I fixed him with a look. "Cream? Sugar?"

Going by his patronizing smile, my disapproval apparently meant nothing. That was probably for the best. "Sugar."

"Tell me when," I said as I went right for the spoons and then for the hen.

He waited for three spoonfulls before saying, "When."

I settled for one.

As we waited for the coffee to cool before taking our first small sips, I had another moment where I was almost overwhelmed by the surrealness of the situation. I was leaning on Elena Gilbert's counter, in Elena Gilbert's body, having coffee with Damon Salvatore. A dangerous Damon Salvatore. Not that he wasn't ever not dangerous—but by mid-season, it was obvious he wouldn't hurt Elena.

Everyone around her on the other hand…

I didn't know what all his stalking meant yet. If Elena was already on his list of people he wouldn't kill, or if he was just biding his time. Maybe he didn't know himself. For all his ability to scheme, Damon could be awfully impulsive. Especially if nothing was holding him in check.

He wasn't above compelling me, at least. I knew that much. He'd start messing with my sleep, too, if he behaved like he had on the show. Assuming I lived through this encounter and somehow managed to fall asleep later tonight. Hopefully he'd be appeased that he'd gotten an invitation.

But maybe I'd fall asleep and wake up back in my apartment.

The clink of a mug hitting the countertop drew my attention back to Damon. He stood up, stretching his neck side to side with a sigh. "Well, this is boring."

I swallowed and eyed him with growing trepidation. "There's an x-box in the sitting room." I think. Jeremy played one on the show.

"Not what I have in mind." He moved from the island. "Your room's the last on the left, isn't it?"

My blood ran cold. "What?"

He glanced over his shoulder before striding out the archway and towards the stairs. He had steps as light as a cat's he climbed to the second floor.

My mug clattered on the countertop as I raced around the island and through the dining room, then down the narrow hallway before catching the corner of the wall and swinging around to the steps. Unlike Damon, I clomped up the stairs. "Damon?!" I hit the landing and sprinted down the hall. Elena's door was open. "Damon!"

His broad back faced me, shoulders rounded over as he hovered above Elena's desk. The towel from this morning dangled from one hand as he flipped through what I feared might've been her journal. "This is better." He plucked the book up and held it in front of him. "'Dear Diary,'"

"Damon! That's private." I gripped the doorframe.

He ignored me. "'Had another fight with Matt. It seems we do more arguing than talking these days.'" He pursed his lips and shot me a faux look of sympathy before his eyes darted back to the pages. "Let's see… 'He has a whole future planned out for us. I just wish he bothered to ask me where I wanted to fit in before slotting me into place.' Hm. Teenage boys." He rolled his shoulders. "Not the most considerate bunch."

"Cause you're so respectful of other people," I snapped.

I shrank back as he glanced over the journal's edge. A dark brow quirked up before his sights fell back to the pages. He flipped forward. "'Dear Diary, they're dead. I killed them.'" He looked up. "Now _that's_ interesting."

I strode forward and gripped the book, meeting his amused stare as I started tugging at the diary. "Don't."

He let go, and I nearly fell back. I stepped quick enough to catch myself. Hugging Elena's diary to my chest, I tried not to glare at the smirking asshole. "I think it's time for you to go."

"Aw. C'mon Elena." He wandered around me towards the dresser. "Things are starting to get good."

He started to open the top drawer when I pressed it closed. He must have let me because it slid shut. "Damon."

"Elena." He was right next to me. Eyes bright and entirely focused on me.

I almost ducked away, but held my ground. Elena had managed to make him listen. "Stop."

He grinned and held up his hands. Spinning about he hopped onto the end of the bed, tested its firmness with a few bounces. He seemed to notice the hole in his jeans then, because he plucked at it and frowned.

"What happened to your pants?"

Damon's gaze shifted up to me. "Had an unfortunate run in with a stick." He let go of his jeans and patted the mattress next to him.

I shook my head.

He tilted his head, lips pressed into a line, an amused gleam in his eyes. "Elena. Come here." He fluttered his eyelashes. "Please?"

I hugged the diary tighter.

"Ugh. You have to make it all so difficult." And he was standing in right in front of me. I gasped. There had been no streak or blur of black. One moment he was on the bed and the next he was in front of me. I hadn't even blinked. With my brain still trying to comprehend what I'd seen, it was easy for him to take my chin again and meet my wide, startled eyes. "Sit on the bed, Elena."

My knees felt week from the shock. I stumbled to the bed and collapsed onto it.

Damon hopped down beside me, grinning from ear to ear. "See? Easy."

I gulped, staring down at him.

He flipped onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. "You're so tense." His eyes trapped mine. "You should relax. Take off your jacket. Get comfortable."

The tension bled out of me. And I was still wearing Elena's jacket. I shrugged out of it, folding it beside me on the bed.

Damon's hand brushed a side of my hair back behind my shoulder. I realized what he was doing a moment before his fingers stroked my neck as he rose up next to me and moved until he was sitting sideways.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Why hadn't I just gone to the graveyard? The room blurred as a burn built up in my eyes. I tried blinking it back, but my breath started coming faster as fear flooded through me despite my body's determination to stay relaxed.

Damon leaned over, his gaze searching my face. It was a deep, probing look. Not something two people who'd just met would ever share.

Whatever he found disappointed him, I could see it in the dimming of his eyes and the slight frown. He looked away, staring at nothing. A minute passed before he turned back to me with a smirk that was the fakest he'd given me yet. His pupils dilated. "Don't be afraid."

My heart slowed and my breathing evened out as my panic melted away. The tears that had been building slipped out the corner of my eyes, but they were the only ones to fall. Damon smeared them away with a gentle caress of his thumb. "You want to be bitten," he murmured.

My heart sped up again. Nerve endings sparking to life as my skin warmed. My fingers itched with the need to reach out, to drift over his arms or skate across his chest or trace his abs. But mostly, I wanted to feel his mouth pressed over the pulse in my neck and have teeth pierce my flesh. I stretched my neck, hoping he'd read and accept the invitation.

The veins around his eyes darkened, enough that I could see them pulse beneath the skin. They fed into his eyes. Filled them with blood so dark I'd think it was black but for a gleam of red when the light hit just right. It spread across the whites of his eyes like an oil spill. As if someone had poured ink into his irises, pale blue bled into red. It was happening right in front of me. Witnessing the transformation was strangely entrancing.

His lips parted, then stretched back as he opened his mouth to reveal a pair of fangs. My pulse fluttered, heating my blood and quickening my breath. His arm crossed in front of me, pressed into the mattress beside my thigh. It dipped as he leaned over me and lowered his head to my shoulder. Citrus and leather and _Damon_ filled my senses as my chest drew in more and more air the closer his breath came to my neck.

I expected his teeth to press into my skin. Instead, there was nothing before a quick and bruising pinch, and Damon's mouth pressed against my skin. With his lips sealing around the sudden burst of heat in my neck, it was almost like he was marking me. Except he was content to let my fluttering pulse dictate the flow.

He curled over me, his other arm wrapping around my back and pulling me flush to his chest as he drank. Aside from the building heat where he must have punctured my skin, there was just the sensation of bleeding and the heat of Damon's mouth. My breathing mixed with the sounds of swallowing.

As I began to feel drowsy, leaning further against him, his hold both tightened even as he started to lift his head. I whimpered, reaching up to the back of his head to keep the heat of his mouth where it was. His lips curved against my neck, a smirk I saw a moment later as his head lifted despite my feeble attempts to stop him. His black and red eyes were crinkled in a smile. His tongue swiped along his glistening bottom lip. His teeth had a pink shine.

As the darkness drained out of his eyes and his teeth retracted back to normal, he guided me down onto the mattress, stretching out beside me.

My neck began to sting and ache. I reached up, but he caught my hand before I could prod at the punctures. "Bad idea." He squeezed my fingers before letting my hand drop onto my stomach. He reached back up to my face and began arranging my hair. As soon as I caught his eyes, he said, "Sleep."

My eyelids fluttered shut and darkness took over.

* * *

I dreamt. Of what, I can't remember. Whatever it had been startled me bad enough that my eyes flew open, and I sat up, breath coming fast and furious. For a moment there was only fear. Then a sort of hope drove back some of the fear as I remembered how I'd woken up the morning before, and it had to have been a dream, hadn't it? But no. That hope was immediately and ruthlessly dashed on the jagged and cruel rocks of reality as I looked around. The room was clearly Elena's, not my own, and a burning pinch from my neck had me hissing and wincing.

"Yeah. It's going to sting for a few days."

Turning my head despite the sting he warned me about, I found Damon laying where he'd been before I'd fallen asleep. Hands folded beneath his head, contentment radiating from his smirking face.

"You bit me." I stared with wide eyes.

His smirk deepened. "Yep." He stretched until his back arched. Sighing as he relaxed back onto the bed, he grinned up. "You, Elena Gilbert, are _delicious_."

I had no idea what to say to that, so I stared down in silence.

Damon didn't seem to mind my sudden quiet. He shifted on my pillow and looked directly up at me. "Hide the marks. Don't let anyone see them."

Rolling to the edge of the bed, I pushed myself up. I felt a little tired, but otherwise okay. I padded on bare feet—when had my boots and socks come off?—over to Elena's closet, pulling out the folding door and looking about inside. Fortunately, there were a few scarves hanging around various shirts and blouses. I plucked one out and set about wrapping it around my neck, wincing a bit as the fabric pulled at the edges of the punctured skin.

"My brother, Stefan, will probably pay you a visit soon." Damon announced from the bed. I stilled, my hands freezing in the midst of tying the scarf's knot. Without hearing him move, Damon's hands settled on my shoulders. I was unresistant as he turned me around to face him. Our eyes met. "Don't invite him inside."

That went without saying. Stefan was a vampire, after all. Jeremy and Jenna were in the house. "I won't invite him inside."

Damon's smile was smug. He pinched a lock of my hair between his fingers. "Good girl." He held it as his eyes roamed my face. A thoughtful expression took the arrogance from his features. "You're nothing like her, are you?"

I started, suddenly worried he knew I wasn't Elena. But no. He had to mean Katherine. I feigned confusion. "Who?"

He let my hair fall back over my shoulder. "Never mind. Oh," he pointed at me, "don't tell anyone I'm a vampire."

"I won't," I promised. Damon was ruthless about his secret. I was sure he'd kill whoever I told, and then me for telling.

Damon's smirk was back. He bopped me on the nose. "Adorable." A wistfulness settled over him as he let out a breath. "I'd almost forgotten," he murmured, eyes softening.

He was picturing Katherine again. It was weird enough being trapped inside the body of Elena Gilbert. Being looked at as yet another person, a ruthless vampire at that, was a whole new level of unsettling. Double the discomfort.

Something of it must have shown, because the gentleness went away as if it never was and the cocky asshole was back in the blink of an eye. "You should get something to eat. Some fruit or a chicken sandwich."

Iron deficiency. I had to hold back a glare. I would've nodded, but my neck was sore. "Alright."

He wandered over to the window seat. Pulling the window open, he threw me a wink over his shoulder. "See you around, Elena."

Before I could say anything, he was gone.

I hadn't seen him leave.

I shivered. Vampires. _Vampires_. The memory of his bite made my heart speed up and my nerves tingle. My hand hovered over my neck. The bite underneath the flimsy scarf throbbed lightly in time with my pulse. I exhaled and let my hand fall.

I stared blankly into the closet, not really seeing all of Elena's clothes hanging neatly before me. I don't know how long I stood there, letting the full weight of my situation slam into me like a tsunami that just kept coming and coming and coming until I was swept along in the current.

When my legs gave and I hit the ground, I realized I really should have taken Damon's advice about the food.


	4. Four

**The More Things Change  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** Thank you again for all the reviews and comments! I really appreciate hearing what y'all have to say.

**Chapter Four**

Forehead resting against my knee, arms hugging my legs, I rocked back and forth even after the tears had stopped. Sinuses stuffed, I focused on the aftermath of my sob fest rather than the life I had no idea how to get back to. Thoughts of home and the grim conclusion that I had no idea how to leave Monster Falls did nothing but bring me to tears.

I couldn't afford that. I had to survive until I could find a way out.

The forest had left its mark on me. Apart from my mysterious scratches and bruises, there was dirt and sweat clinging to my skin. Given what had happened after skipping the cemetery, there was no way I wasn't going to show up at the Grill. Which meant another shower.

It was slower going than the first that morning. The hot water was soothing and helped clear my clogged sinuses. I ended up leaning halfway out of the spray to spare the bite marks. Not that they were huge, I was surprised by how small they appeared in the mirror compared to how much blood he'd gotten from me, but both punctures were fresh and still sore.

Part of me hoped Damon switched to blood bags soon, but the idea of being fed from again aroused feelings that frightened me. Maybe it was Elena. I hadn't ever been that turned on by the thought of being _bit_ before. Now I had to avoid the memory, because this wasn't my body and I really wasn't in a head space for dealing with new and potentially dangerous kinks.

I rooted through Elena's closet while I dried. I found t-shirts and jeans, but most of her clothes were much nicer. Since the Grill was a casual get together, I picked out a sky-blue sweater that matched a lightweight patterned scarf and dark pair of jeans. From her twenty pair of shoes, I grabbed a pair of sneakers, because this was Mystic Falls. I wanted to be ready to run.

Not that it'd help, not with teleporting vampires, but it made me feel minutely better to know I was ready to sprint if I had to.

I was finishing up with the scarf when I heard the rumble of a garage door. The sun was low enough that golden light poured in through all the windows. Downstairs the side door in the kitchen opened.

Jenna had several take-out bags spread across the counter by the time I arrived. "Hey, Elena," she greeted, grabbing a stack of plates from the cabinet.

"Jeremy isn't here." I hadn't heard him come in, anyway.

Jenna frowned but replaced the bottom dish.

"And I'm going to the Grill."

Another plate joined it. "Guess it's just me and Basilico's then."

"Sorry."

Placing the remaining plate on the counter, Jenna flipped the kitchen lights on before opening the sacks. "No problem. Means more leftovers. Which means less of my cooking." The box she pulled out smelled divine. Savory tomato sauce, buttery cheese and herbs. "I think we can all agree that's cause for celebration."

Since I had no idea what Jenna's cooking tasted like, I answered with a noncommittal hum.

The lid lifted to reveal a pan of lasagna that looked amazing and made me regret waiting to get to the Grill. "When's Bonnie picking you up?"

Crap. In the show Elena had gone with Stefan. But he had no reason to come over. Had she driven? Had he? "Actually, I thought I'd drive."

Jenna's brows rose so high they'd practically summited her hairline. "Saywhatnow?"

"Unless that's not okay."

"Nonono. I mean, yes, of course it's okay! Elena!" Smiling, she grabbed my hand. I stiffened, but she didn't notice. "This is great!" She squeezed. "I'm so proud of you!"

I stared, flummoxed, but managed to return the squeeze before letting go. "Oh, um. Thanks Jenna."

She beamed as she unpacked the rest of her dinner. I distracted her by asking how her day had gone. She launched into an excited recitation about her meeting and her plans for her dissertation. Given all the practice I'd had today, I'd gotten excellent at mhmm-ing and adding the occasional nod or sympathetic noise where required.

Jenna was halfway through her meal, getting into something to do with childhood regression, when a doorbell chimed.

Pausing mid-sentence, Jenna pointed a fork with a bit of cheese hanging off it towards the archway. "Mind getting that?"

"Nope."

The sun had set while Jenna and I had talked. Except for a weak stripe of light leaking from the kitchen, the hallway between the dining room and front door was a long stretch of darkness. I found and pushed the light switch, but nothing happened. Since all I had to do was walk straight to avoid the walls, I crossed to the entryway anyway. Fishing for the handle, I pulled the door open as soon as I found it.

The porch was a little better lit from the streetlight. I could tell it was a man. One dressed in dark colors. "Hold on a sec." I felt around the wall for a switch to the either the hall, entryway, or the porch. One of them _had_ to work.

Sure enough my fingers soon traced a series of flat switches. I went down the line, pressing each of them in turn. Half the bulbs in the house must've needed changing because the only one that would turn on was the porch light.

"There—oh!"

Stefan Salvatore blinked against the sudden burst of brightness. Once his eyes readjusted, he smiled. "Hi."

"Hi," I replied, when what I really wanted to ask him what he was doing there. I hadn't gone to the cemetery. Elena's diary was upstairs on her desk.

As if he could read my mind—could he?—he said, "We haven't met. I'm Stefan. Stefan—"

"Salvatore." I opened the door a tad wider. "We have history together."

His eyes lightened. "And English. Sorry to show up out of nowhere. I thought you might like this," his hand rose, lifting a familiar leather bag in its grip, "back."

"My bag." What. The. Hell. He handed it over to me. "I thought I forgot it at school."

There must've been enough doubt in my tone that he was able to pick up on it. "I found it on the ground not too far from here."

A chill that had nothing to do with the evening air fell over me. My suspicions that Damon had done something to my memory were confirmed. Not that I'd had much cause to doubt, but here was proof. I struggled to keep the dismay off my face and stay calm. "Weird." I smiled up at Stefan, whose stare was intense. Was he gauging my reaction? The idea made me even more anxious. I squeezed the strap, and the responding creak of leather reassured me that at least something today had turned out alright. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "You might want to check inside. Make sure everything's there. Some books and folders fell out. I think I got them all, but…" Stefan trailed off with a shrug.

"Oh." I opened my mouth, an invitation to come inside on the tip of my tongue, but I remembered Stefan was a vampire. I should never, ever let him in. "Just a second."

"Okay." If he was disappointed by the lack of invite, he hid it well. He just leaned a shoulder up against the door frame.

I carried the bag to the stairs. Light from the open door spilled across the floor and crept up part of the steps. I set the bag down at the bottom. I hadn't taken a complete inventory of everything that had been inside it earlier. Even so, all the folders and books from today were there, along with a few notebooks I hadn't had a chance to use. "I think everything's there."

"Good."

My thumb ran along the leather strap before I returned to the threshold. "Can I ask where, exactly, you found it?"

Stefan straightened. "You know the woods west of here?" My stomach churned, but I nodded. "About a ten-minute hike from King street."

"Oh." I stared down at my free hand where a few scratches stood out on my palm. "Well," I cleared my throat as I lifted my head again, "I'm glad you found it."

"So am I." Stefan's superhero chin jutted at the bag. "I'd be worried about losing that many textbooks."

"I hadn't even thought about that," I confessed. Elena's classes had been the last thing on my mind.

"And now you won't have to."

Relief widened my answering smile. "Yeah. Thank you. Really."

He shook his head. "I was in the area. Least I could do."

We watched one another. The silence stretched.

Stefan was the one to break it. "Well. I should," he stuck a thumb out behind him.

"Okay. Right." I lifted my hand in farewell. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

We shared tentative smiles, and then I moved to shut the door. Stefan turned, walking back across the porch towards the stairs. He'd almost reached first step when I remembered—The Grill! He was supposed to go with Elena!

After everything that happened when I skipped the cemetery, I was leery of messing up anything else I'd seen on the show. "Stefan?"

The porch creaked underfoot as he turned about. "Yeah?"

I opened the door all the way. "My friends are having a little get together at the Grill tonight. Would you like to go?"

His brows arched in surprise. "I—yes. Absolutely."

Relief brightened my smile to something genuine. "Great. I'm just going to get my purse and jacket. I'll be right out."

"Alright." His answering grin was smaller, but sincere. "I'll be here."

"Good."

I slid the door shut and hurried up the stairs to Elena's room. I dropped the bag back by the desk where I'd found it that morning and grabbed the purse sitting at the top. Snatching her jacket from the bed, I headed back downstairs.

"Jenna?" I called, leaning over the railing.

"Yea—why's it dark in here?" The hall light flicked on. Jenna looked up. "What's up?"

"Where're the keys?"

"Aren't they still on key holder by the side door?"

I pressed my lips together, waving a hand. "Right. 'Course." I 'hah'ed. "Guess I'm spacey today."

"I'll grab them."

I reached the bottom step as she disappeared back into the dining room. "Key holder. Duh." I rifled through the purse's contents as I crossed the hall. Wallet. Makeup. Pens. Small notepad. Kleenex. Lip balm.

Hold on. Where'd I put her phone?

Her school bag. "Dammit," I muttered. The phone hadn't been inside when I'd checked. It must have fallen out and was now wherever Stefan had found the bag.

"Here you go." I looked up in time to hold out my hand as Jenna passed along the keys. "You'll be careful?"

"Course."

She smiled. Beamed really. "Okay. Have fun!"

"I'm sure I will." Provided I didn't screw up and let everyone know I was a body snatcher.

I rounded back towards the front door when Jenna called out. "Elena? Where are you going? SUV's in the garage."

I paused. "Yeah. I left a friend waiting for me on the porch. I was going to let him know I'd be pulling around."

Jenna's brows furrowed. "Why didn't you invite him in?"

"He's… shy."

Jenna's brows furrowed further. They were almost one.

I gave a firm nod and a grin. "So. I'll be… right back." I pointed back towards the dining room. "To go to the garage."

"O-kay."

I cringed as I turned around. I was careful to smooth my expression before opening the front door.

Stefan was leaning against a post, arms crossed. He was also sporting furrowed brows, but they relaxed as soon as he saw me.

"Hey. I'm just going to pull the SUV out." I stretched out to search the street in front of the house and then the driveway. "Where's your car?"

"I walked."

"Oh." I bit my bottom lip before offering, "You can ride with me." Elena must have driven them both in the episode. I'd be fine.

Stefan wasn't Damon.

He uncrossed his arms and straightened up. "Alright."

"Just," I held up a finger, "one more minute."

Stefan nodded and I smiled as I shut the door.

I blew out a breath. This was ridiculous. If this had been on television, Benny Hill music would've been playing.

I was about to head back when I heard a low buzzing. Suddenly, the light blew out with a pop, drenching the hall in darkness again. "Dammit."

Fortunately, the dining room and kitchen were still lit. Jenna looked up from the fridge, most of the takeout gone from the countertop. I was almost out the door when, "Wait!"

I stopped. Jenna shut the refrigerator and stood up, pointing. "Don't stay out late. It's a school night." The smirk that followed was smug with accomplishment.

I nodded, said a rushed, "Okay," and sped out the door.

Fortunately, once I was in the SUV the garage door opener was on the visor. I didn't have to waste time hunting it up. It occurred to me that if I was stuck in this mad world, I'd better become familiar with more than Elena's kitchen drawers.

Stefan was waiting beside the driveway, hands again stuffed in his pocket, slouching. He really had the seventeen-year-old act down. He came around the front to the passenger side and slid in.

He fastened his seat belt. We stared for several moments before I cleared my throat and finished backing out of the driveway.

I remembered Bonnie had gone left. What I wouldn't have given for GPS. I figured that if I kept heading west, I was bound to get to the center of town at some point.

Stefan sat quietly in the passenger seat. After a few minutes of the heater blowing, the low hum of the engine, and several turns, I remembered to ask where he found Elena's things. "Oh, I was missing something from my bag."

Stefan turned toward me and frowned. "What?"

"My phone."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"I'll go back in the morning before school. See if I can find it."

"You don't have to go to the trouble. I just thought you could let me know where—"

"It's no trouble. I go hiking at sunup. I'll be out in the woods anyway."

Right. Breakfast.

He reached into his pocket. "If I could have your number," he said, lifting out a flip phone, "it'd make finding it a lot easier."

Shit.

Sitting in the turning lane at a red light, the blinker clicked as I hunted for some excuse. Stefan watched me, phone open, thumb hovering over the dial pad, waiting. As the clicking went from a few seconds to a minute, he glanced down at the screen. "I'll delete your number as soon as I've found it."

Crap. "No, it's… it's not that." I squeezed the steering wheel. "It's um, just." I blew out a breath. "You'll think I'm stupid—"

"I won't."

He was so earnest I couldn't help but crack a smile. "I'm… really bad with numbers."

To Stefan's credit, his expression didn't shift a millimeter. "You don't know your phone number?"

The wheel creaked under my hands. "…No."

His phone's lid snapped shut. "I'll do my best, but I'm not sure I'll see it."

Damn. Then I realized Elena couldn't be the only one who knew it. "Bonnie! Or Caroline. They'll have it in their phones and their both going to be at the Grill."

"I'll ask—"

"Bonnie."

Stefan glanced at me before sliding his phone back into his pocket, "Bonnie for your number."

The signal turned green. I glanced at the street sign before pressing the gas.

Washington Street.

Holy crap. I actually made it. Turning onto Mystic Falls' main street with a grin, I could see the clocktower in the distance and headed for it. The Grill hadn't been that far from City Hall.

I remembered that Washington drew a square around the historic building from my walk. Passing the clocktower, I wondered if it had been there when Stefan was born. Fortunately, I remembered right about the Grill being visible from the town center. The restaurant and bar were down a street which fed into Washington. There was no parking left around the Grill, and the nearest alley had stairs leading down. I passed the building, and Stefan didn't make any comment, so I supposed there must have been parking elsewhere.

I was right. A small lot filled with cars was a short distance away. We got a poor space in the back, narrow and far from the street or the lights. I didn't mind when Stefan kept close as we made our way to the sidewalk.

It was cool but not cold, and the night was clear. The city's lights dimmed the stars, but the few that were visible dotted the black sky. "The comet must pass pretty close to see it without a telescope."

Stefan glanced at me. "Are you going to the festival?"

If I didn't wake up. "Caroline, Bonnie, and I volunteered to help out."

"Do you do a lot of volunteer work?"

"Caroline makes certain of it."

The soft murmur of music filled the street as we passed beneath the Grill's awning. Light shone from the windows. Approaching the door, Stefan reached out and held it open. I thanked him with a gentle smile.

The murmur of people, the tumble of ice clacking together, and the distant crack of pool balls greeted us. I smelled cooked food and a fainter hint of citrus. The lighting was soft on the eyes, and the largest impression was of wood. Wooden floors, tables, booths—all polished and shining.

We walked by the greeting counters, beyond which I could see the bar and wall to wall mirror. I half expected the song from the episode to be playing as we walked in. Everyone I recognized had their eyes on us. "Fashionably late," I said quietly, nodding towards the table holding Matt and Bonnie as I shucked off my jacket.

Folding it over my arm, we both slowed as Matt slid out of his seat to greet us. Soon as he was within reach, he held out a hand. "Hey. I'm Matt. Nice to meet you."

"Hi," Stefan said as he accepted. "Stefan."

Letting go, Matt's attention shifted to me. There was strain in the tense lines of his face. I offered a small smile. "Hey."

His blue eyes gentled. "Hey. Glad you came."

"Me too." When the emotion in his stare became too much, I glanced away and caught sight of Vicki carrying a tray of food and drinks to a back table. Unease bloomed in my gut and climbed my neck as I watched her, very much alive.

Damon was going to kill her, and then Stefan would have to stake her.

A touch on my elbow startled me back to Stefan and Matt. Stefan's hand dropped back to his side. I pulled my lips into something resembling a smile. "Let's sit."

Matt led the way back to the table he shared with Bonnie.

Grinning as we neared, Bonnie said, "Hey. You made it."

"Yep."

I turned, about to grab a chair when Stefan pulled one out for me. I glanced down, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear as I thanked him. I draped my jacket over the back and sat. Bonnie arched a brow, mouth edging upward.

Stefan sat beside me as Caroline and Tyler left their game of pool to join us. There were introductions all around. Caroline wasted no time, starting right in with the interrogation. "So tell us everything."

Tyler pressed his lips together and cast a flat look at Caroline. She either didn't notice or chose to ignore it.

Stefan spread his hands across the tabletop. "There's not much to tell."

Caroline glanced Bonnie's way before smirking. "I highly doubt that."

His eyes sought mine, though not to plead for help, like I would've expected. Instead, they glinted with amusement. Stefan turned back to Caroline. "I was born here."

"No one would live here who wasn't," Tyler declared as he leaned back into his seat, grabbing a glass slick with condensation.

Stefan shrugged. With everyone's chairs packed together, his jacket rubbed against my sleeve. My arm tingled.

"So you were born in Mystic Falls..." Caroline prompted after sending a warning glare Tyler's way. Tyler made a 'what?' face before rolling his eyes and turning away.

Stefan followed the exchange. "And moved when I was still young." Not necessarily a lie. Seventeen would be young to a hundred and sixty-year-old.

I wondered if he'd spin his answers from the frayed threads of truth the whole night.

Bonnie decided to join in the impromptu grilling. "Parents?"

"They… passed away."

A moment of discomfort passed as all eyes shifted unerringly towards me. Subtle. Remembering what I'd seen of his father, and how that ended, I thought of the little boy who'd lost his mother. "I'm sorry."

Unlike the others, Stefan's steady stare held an unspoken understanding that made me feel like a fraud.

Thankfully, Caroline was eager to throw out bait and try to reel his attention back to her. "Sisters? Brothers?"

In an instant, the gentle warmth his eyes had shone with all evening was swallowed by a darkness that, ironically, made him resemble his brother. "None that I speak to." He left that bomb on the table as he turned back to Caroline. "I live with my Uncle."

The first lie.

Caroline looked disappointed by the lack of elaboration in his answers. Not that she was prepared to give up. "Are you going to the party tomorrow?"

"He's new, Care. He might not know," Bonnie said. "It's a back to school thing at the falls."

Stefan turned to me. "Are you going?"

Never let it be said Stefan Salvatore was ambiguous about his interest. The guy had serious tunnel vision. Caroline's forehead crinkled as her brows tightened. Even Matt frowned. Bonnie beamed as she said, "Of course she is." She ignored Caroline's sharp glance.

But I was again thinking about a certain attack. My gaze drifted back to Vicki, now standing near the bar.

The last time I tried to avoid an encounter, I ended up making everything worse. I'd given Damon the opening he'd lacked with the real Elena. The party would have lots of people, which arguably made it safer than Elena's house. So long as I stayed among them, Damon couldn't do anything. I met Stefan's waiting stare, wishing I could ask for the vervain necklace early. "Guess I'm drafted."

Stefan's lips quirked. "Then I guess I'll see you there."

Our eyes held, the green within his bright and shining like sun dappled leaves.

"So," Caroline said, sharp and demanding. "Likes? Hobbies?"

Back slouching into his chair, Tyler scoffed. "You writing up the guy's profile or something?"

"Shut up, Tyler." Her lips barely moved, but a frosty Forbes glare did more than enough talking. Tyler huffed before settling back, acting as if he hadn't just been chastised.

"I like to read. Hike." Stefan said before turning to regard the rest of the table. "The woods around here are beautiful."

"And dangerous," Matt said, frowning. "With all the attacks lately."

"I heard." Stefan's expression never changed. Not even so much as twitch. "Predators don't stick around in one place for very long. I'm sure the animal responsible will move on."

I couldn't help but glance to the window overlooking main street. With the sun down, traffic was a trickle. The night pressed in around the slender yellow glow of the streetlamps. I looked for the shadow of a man, or a bird, but found neither.

"Hey, Elena." Vicki's voice drew my attention back inside the Grill. Pad out, she stood beside our table, eying Stefan before focusing on me. "Usual?"

I had no idea what that would be. "Actually, could I have chicken and some juice?"

"What? Like chicken tenders?" she asked, scribbling. "And we got orange, apple, cranberry—"

"Orange is good. And yeah, tenders sound fine."

"Okay." Vicki smiled at Stefan. Caroline rolled her eyes while Tyler tensed. "And—"

"Stefan," he said. "I'll have the same, but with a coke."

"Alright." Vicki's pen scraped along her pad. "Be back with your drinks."

"Thanks, Vic," Matt added.

"My job, ain't it?" she replied before moving off.

"My sister," Matt said.

Stefan nodded.

Caroline kept the conversation focused on Stefan for another ten minutes before Tyler had enough and dragged Matt off to a game of pool. Bonnie then redirected talk to their classes. Caroline contributed something other than a hundred questions for Stefan by sharing the latest gossip already going around.

I didn't say much aside from commenting on my classes. Bonnie and Caroline didn't seem to expect me to talk. Bonnie kept soliciting my opinion anyway, which was sweet of her, if inconvenient. I didn't know what the real Elena would say. I kept my answers brief, smiled and nodded a lot.

Stefan watched me. Not in a way that made me uncomfortable, surprisingly. He just gazed every so often, catching my eye and holding it until I had to grin and look away. He'd have a little smile on his face when I'd glance at him again.

Vicki brought out our food. I wasn't blown away by it, but finished most of the basket. I kept peeking at Stefan eating from beneath my lashes. It was both odd and not, knowing what he was, and yet it was such a normal thing for someone to do.

When I finished my glass of orange juice, he offered to go up to the bar to get me another. "I can wait for Vicki."

"I'd like a refill too," Stefan replied as he stood. He smiled. "I'll be right back."

"Okay."

I was impressed that Bonnie waited for him to get a whole five feet away before pouncing. "Elena," she demanded, leaned over the table on folded arms, "what happened?"

"Yeah." Caroline stirred at her iced tea with a straw before quirking a brow at me. "What are you two doing together?"

Bonnie shot her a look that Caroline returned with an arched brow. I shrugged. "I lost my bag on the way home. Stefan found it and brought it over." I picked up a napkin and wiped at my fingers. "So I invited him."

"You lost your bag?" Bonnie frowned. "How'd that happen?"

"I must have set it down for a minute, spaced and forgot it." Crumpling up the napkin, I dropped it in the empty basket. "That reminds me, he needs to get my number from you, Bonnie."

"Okay, but," she added her own napkin to my basket, "why not just give it to him yourself?"

"I forgot it."

"You forgot it," Caroline repeated, incredulous.

"It's not like I used it a lot, Caroline," I replied defensively.

Bonnie looked as if she regretted asking. "Sure, Elena," she interjected. "I'll tell him."

"Thanks," I smiled.

"So what's he drive?" Caroline asked.

"What, you don't already know?" Bonnie smirked.

Caroline rolled her eyes.

"I don't know." Which I didn't. I honestly couldn't remember from the show. "He walked."

Bonnie asked, "So how'd you get here? Did Jenna drop you off?"

"No. I drove."

Both girls stared.

"Elena!" Bonnie beamed at me like Jenna had. "That's great!"

Caroline fiddled with her straw. "So you won't need rides to school?"

I blinked. "Um. No?"

Before anyone could say anything else, Stefan was back with the drinks.

"Here you go," he said, setting another orange juice in front of me before sitting with his own soda.

"Thank you." I smiled at him before taking a sip.

His gave a little smile back. "My pleasure."

The conversation continued. By the end of the evening, as we were all leaving and saying our goodbyes, I felt much better, buoyed by Caroline and Bonnie's company and Stefan's flattering attention. The concern for the doppelgänger's draw to each other had mostly disappeared to the back of my mind, along with the fact he was a vampire.

That didn't stop me from checking the parking lot as we crossed it.

Unlocking the SUV, I realized it would be strange if I just drove us both back to Elena's. If Stefan had really walked, and wasn't a vampire, Elena would be rude not to offer to drop him off at home.

But would Damon be there?

Settling inside, I debated with myself the whole time. My fingers had gone cold, and I missed the ignition the first time I tried to insert the key. When I finally got the engine turned on, I sucked down a breath and cleared my throat. "Do you want me to drop you off at your place?"

Stefan was quiet for a moment. "I can walk from yours."

The knot in my stomach began to unwind. Still, anyone else would probably find it odd and worrisome. They'd make sure. "It's late."

His answering grin was more than a little self-deprecating. "I'll be alright."

The ride was quiet. It wasn't awkward, though. A Black Eyed Peas song filled the car. Between the food, the bloodloss, and all the stress of the day, the headlights were pulling my attention like a moth to a flame. Rolling up to a red light, I stared into the other cars' lights until spots danced in front of my eyes. The mechanical chords of the music started to sound like a horn. And the lights got bigger and bigger until they were filling my vision as the horn blared—

"Elena?"

Stefan's hand on my shoulder snapped me back to my senses. The light was green. The car behind us was honking. Spots floated around my vision like psychedelic fireflies.

I took a breath, working on getting my head on straight as I accelerated through the intersection. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Stefan frowned.

"I guess I'm more tired than I realized." I blinked, as if that might clear the afterimages from my retinas. "I didn't mean to space off."

"It's fine." The warmth in his voice was lulling. "It's been a long day."

I cracked the window to stir in some fresh, chilled air. It helped keep my mind focused despite the weariness that crept around the edges of my thoughts. Leaning forward, I hit the search button on the radio and let chance pick the next station. It landed on country.

As if he could sense the fight I was waging with my own exhaustion, Stefan said, "I had a really nice time tonight."

Like the cool breeze, his words helped keep the weariness at bay. "Me too."

"Your friends seem nice."

"Once you get past Inquisitor Caroline, you mean."

He chuckled.

The sound made me feel stupid and drunk and happy. No. Murderous vampire. Eater of small woodland creatures. It wouldn't do. I tried to remember what happened when I let the last one in. Except that brought up thoughts of Damon's mouth pressed against my neck and his body curved over mine. I concentrated on the road to give myself time to arrange my expression into something less fawning and glow-y. Once I was properly composed, or at least less obviously besotted, I said, "You realize she's going to tell the whole school everything about you."

One glimpse of Stefan's slight smile and the ridiculous feelings were back. Worse, they'd brought friends. "I'm new. They'll lose interest soon enough."

"You have seen you, right?" I was pretty sure he had a reflection. A glanced at the passenger window as we passed under a streetlight and… yep. Reflection.

Stefan kept his eyes on the road, but the corner of his mouth turned up again. "Once or twice."

"Once or twice," I mimicked as best I could. Which wasn't very well, not in Elena's voice. Not that I'd do much better in mine. "Sorry to break it to you, Stefan, but they're not going to lose interest anytime soon."

He gave a doubtful hum. "I'm not very interesting." I scoffed at the idea. He shrugged. "I mostly keep to myself. I'd rather stay home and read then go to a party." He glanced over. "They'll find something or someone more exciting to talk about."

"You're going to the Falls."

Stefan smiled. "You're going to the Falls."

Oh, that little shit. I had to purse my lips to ward off the stupid smile that was determined to break through. Why did everything vaguely complimentary send me into a tizzy? It had to be the pull of the doppelgänger.

That and he was far too handsome. It really wasn't fair.

Big fluffy bunnies. Being eaten.

"You don't have to."

"I know."

"I mean if you want to spend time with me." What was I saying? This was a bad idea, but my stupid mouth kept going. "You could call. Make plans." Why couldn't I shut up?

We pulled up to another red light. I took the opportunity to look over. His eyes somehow shone, even in the heavy shadows cast by the dim dashboard lights of the car. "Plans."

I gripped the wheel and nodded. Ugh. I hate myself. No self-control.

"What kind of plans?"

"I don't know. Like tonight."

"Hang out. Have dinner."

He was doing this on purpose. I would have angled an unamused look his way, but the light had gone green and I needed my sights back on the road. "Yes, like hang out."

He answered with a grave nod, as if this was important information. Like I'd shared the solution to some complex mathematical equation. Or the secret to the cure for cancer. "Okay."

"Okay?" My eyes narrowed. There was a trick here.

"Okay," he reiterated.

I waited for the follow up. The dreaded 'date' word. It was an obvious opening, and anyone would have taken it. Except he didn't. As if some tentative accord had been reached, a soft and easy silence fell between us. One only the soft croon of Love Story filled, until the tension bled out of my body and I settled back into the seat. I was never going to be able to listen to Taylor Swift the same way again. My shoulders relaxed as we passed out of the business district and into the still and soft lit neighborhood streets.

How could Stefan be dangerous? He felt safe. So unlike his brother, who made every primal instinct in my body scream at his nearness. Stefan was calm and steady. Cautious of boundaries. Respectful.

It stayed comfortably quiet all the way to Elena's house. Shaking myself from the lull the rest of the drive had lured me into, I turned to thank Stefan.

Whose eyes were fixed on my neck.

I stilled, but my heartbeat rabbited as I held my breath.

Gritting his teeth, Stefan's jaw flared. He turned his head away and stared out at the garage. After a moment, he opened his door and slid out into the night air. When it shut behind him, I was finally able to breathe.

Okay. So there was the fear I'd been waiting for. My hands tightened into fists as I struggled to keep my breathing even and calm my racing heart. The last thing I wanted to do was tempt him.

I guided the SUV back into the garage. What was I doing? Wasn't one vampire's attention enough?

But Stefan had himself under control. For now. And if I was stuck in this world, and events started happening, I'd need to have him around.

Wow. Not to be selfish about it.

Given everything that happens to him, it'd probably be better for Stefan to run for the hills and get far away from Elena. She'd bring the Originals into his life. Lure Katherine back.

But no. He'd already proven his fascination with her. He wasn't going to take off.

Feeling calmer, I let out a long breath and got out of the car. I left the garage door up, figuring I'd close it once I went back inside. Stefan was waiting just beyond, hands tucked back into his jeans.

"Thanks again for inviting me," he said as I exited the garage.

"Thanks for coming." I fiddled with a key, winding it around the ring.

He smiled, and it eased more of the fear lingering in my chest. "I better get going."

"Yeah. It's late."

He nodded. "Good night, Elena."

"Night Stefan."

I watched as he strode off, until I lost him to the darkness between the houselights further down the street. For all I knew, he had sped off.

The house was dark once again as I walked into the kitchen, Jenna and Jeremy nowhere to be seen. I went to flip the switch and—

"Son of a bitch."

The lights wouldn't turn on. Frowning, I made a note to myself to check for spare bulbs the first chance I had to do some snooping. Until then, I had to feel my way around the counter and through the rest of the first floor.

The light under Jeremy's door was on, and I could hear him speaking to someone, though the exact words were lost. I moved on to Elena's room. And promptly discovered the light in here was out, too. I let out a disbelieving huff. "You gotta be kidding me."

What was going on with all the lights? I flipped the switch a few more times, but it remained dark except for a mix of moon and streetlights seeping in through the thin curtains.

I tossed the purse onto the desk and decided to deal with it later.

I'd had reading to do for class tomorrow. But between the bloodloss, the turmoil of emotions, and now the lights being dead, I wasn't going to be able to concentrate. And it wasn't as if I hadn't done all this before. I'd be fine leaving it tonight.

Besides, what if I woke up?

It was with that hopeful thought that I went to bed.


	5. Five

**The More Things Change  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** Thank you again for your reviews, follows, and favorites! They're very encouraging.

**Chapter Five**

I woke up in Elena's bed, drenched in sweat. The slanted ceiling occupied my blank stare for several minutes while I laid on my back. I was well and truly stuck. How?

There was no figuring it out. If the show were real, maybe this was some sort of parallel reality. Yes, because parallel realities—as opposed to just losing my mind—made perfect sense.

I covered my—or Elena's—face with my—or Elena's—hands and concentrated on breathing and not, you know, screaming. It took a while. The alarm clock went off.

Dragging myself out of the bed, I went on autopilot. Bathroom. Shower. Brush teeth. Get dressed. Makeup.

By the time I was finished putting Elena's hair up into a ponytail, I had a good hour before I'd have to leave for—ugh—high school. That gave me some time to snoop before anyone might expect me for breakfast. Not that Jeremy would care, but Jenna would probably notice if I skipped another meal.

I went to Elena's desk and pulled her laptop over. While her diary would probably tell me more about her, it felt wrong to dive into a teenage girl's private thoughts. Her search history was fair game, though.

What I found was that Elena spent a lot of time reading fashion blogs, following models and designers on their facebooks—when she wasn't looking over the hundred other pages of people she apparently knew—and browsing the online sites of high-end fashion stores. She also had a large collection of links to blogs by and for writers. A quick perusal of her drive revealed a folder full of original stories and poems. I didn't have time to read more than a few of the latter. While poetry really wasn't my thing, what I saw was pretty good.

She also had a bunch of pirated music and shows. Tsk tsk.

Shutting down the laptop, I sat back and thought. Far as fashion went, my knowledge was limited to reality game shows—and that was about it. I was going to have to be careful not to bring it up around Caroline or Bonnie, because I'd probably sound like an idiot. At least I had an idea of her taste in music and movies. We shared a love of Pop, which was good, though Elena had a more extensive collection of Indie rock. We liked a lot of the same movies and shows, too. Except she had a noticeable lack of horror in her collection which—was hilarious or sad, depending on how you looked at it, I supposed.

I had enough time for breakfast before I had to leave.

Jeremy's room was quiet as I walked by. I glanced at the door, at the sign warning others to stay out, and wondered if I should knock and see if he was awake. Elena probably would've.

But I wasn't Elena. I didn't know Jeremy beyond what I'd seen on television, and the kid was not coping with the death of his parents all that well. If such a thing could be said of any kid who'd lost their parents. He also probably knew his sister pretty damn well. I didn't want to risk saying or doing something wrong around him. Jeremy was clever. He'd put together the existence of vampires for himself. No need to go stirring up his curiosity if I didn't have to.

I decided to leave it to Jenna, his actual guardian.

Unfortunately, all there was of Jenna was a note on the fridge saying she'd had to leave early to work on research. I helped myself to some cereal and started a pot of coffee for Jeremy. Provided he ever woke up.

As the time crept closer to eight, and he still hadn't made an appearance, I muttered a quiet, "Dammit." After rinsing the bowel out in the sink, I made my way back upstairs and to Jeremy's door.

I knocked. "Jeremy?"

Nothing.

Blowing out a breath, I knocked harder. "Hey, Jeremy? It's getting kind of late."

"Go away."

Alrighty then.

I wandered back to Elena's room for her bag before going downstairs. I was about to head for the garage when I heard a car rumble up the driveway. Had Bonnie thought she still needed to pick me up?

Switching tracks, I went out the front door and into a neon-bright Virginia morning. This time, I locked the deadbolt behind me. Who knew what Jeremy was going to do? Shaking my head, I started down the porch.

Only to stop at the last step.

Damon. Seated behind the wheel of a top-down convertible. Lips already twisted into that ever-present smirk. He lowered his head until his eyes peeked over the rim of his sunglasses. "Morning Elena."

Leather creaked in my grip. Over my shoulder, the front door tempted me.

"C'mon. I'll give you a ride to school."

"I can drive myself." I'd never make it before he was in front of me. And he could get in.

His grin suggested that was the most amusing thing he'd ever heard. "Let me get this straight," he began before pulling off his sunglasses, "I am offering to take you to your little podunk high school in a classic american sports car, and you'd rather go in a—" he squinted, "Ford SUV."

Since there was no way to get away and I didn't want to keep shouting across the lawn, I walked from the sidewalk to the driveway. I stopped a good few feet from the car. "That's right."

Damon rolled his head back until it was resting against the leather headrest. "Hm." Icy eyes flickered down. "And where did that come from, I wonder?" he asked, staring at Elena's bag.

"Your brother," I bit off. "And he said he found it in the woods."

"_Found_ it?" A side of his mouth crooked into a grin. "Good ol' Saint Stefan." He slung an arm across the passenger seat. "C'mon, Elena. Let me take you to school."

"No, Damon." I sucked down a breath and made for the garage.

And there Damon was, right in my personal space. "Wow. You didn't even take a moment to think about it." He leaned even closer, eyes big and intense. "That really hurts my feelings, Elena."

I gasped. Dry grass crunched as I stepped back. "Don't _do_ that!"

"If you did what I asked, I wouldn't have to," Damon said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"You don't ask, Damon. You demand."

"Fine," he said in the surliest tone imaginable. "Elena," his lips stretched into a shape that technically met all the requirements for a smile, but was too grudging to truly qualify, "will you please," he pressed his hands together, "let me drive you to school?"

I squeezed the bag's strap. "No."

Damon's breath blasted through his nose. "You have to make everything so much more difficult than it needs to be, don't you?"

"I didn't ask you to come over."

"That's what makes it a surprise." His brows shot up. "Surprise!"

Lips mashed into a thin line, I glared.

"Fine. We'll do it the easier way." Ducking his head, Damon stare bored straight into mine, until I could make out the fine flecks of silver growing around his iris like frost crystals. His pupils contracted to points. "You want to ride with me to school."

Was he trying to compel me? "No, I don't."

He went still as night, pinning me beneath narrowed eyes. "You don't," he murmured.

The gentleness of his voice made the fine hair on my arms and neck stand on end. "No."

Damon's hand flew to his mouth, fingers rubbing across his lips as he stared. "Hm." His eyes were fever bright, like two chips of ice reflecting the winter sun. "Alright." His hand fell away. "We'll do it the hard way."

"What do you mean—"

"The blonde. Caroline, isn't it?" He smiled, and this time, it was closer to genuine. "She's cute."

My guts twisted.

"Mm. Yeah." Closing his eyes, Damon stretched his neck to the side. "I bet she'd like to take a ride with me." Eyes meeting mine again, he folded his arms and pursed his lips for a moment before wondering, "Or your other little friend. Bonnie." Damon's black shirt stretched as he shrugged his shoulders. "Personally, I could go either way."

Static filled my ears. Heart speeding up, my chest turned to ice that spread outwards all the way to the tips of my fingers. I didn't know what Damon had planned for Elena—for me—but I was pretty sure he'd do worse to Caroline or Bonnie. I knew what I needed to do, but it was hard. My knees trembled. I had to move, but every instinct in me screamed to stay. I was pulled in two directions, unable to move in either. I stood still and hated myself.

"Just tell me what you want from me, Damon," I asked—pleaded—quietly.

"I already have. This is not a difficult concept, Elena." His smile was all teeth. "I want you to get into the car so that I can take you to your boring little high school. And when you're finished, I want you to get back into my car, so I can take you home."

"Why?"

Damon shrugged again. "Because I want to."

It couldn't be that simple. Damon had to have some ulterior motive. I just couldn't figure out what it was. Unless toying with me was that fun to him. "You swear that's all."

"Mhm." He lifted his hand, two fingers up and the rest curled down. "Scouts honor." His grin returned with a vengeance. "You can do that if you eat one, right? It still counts?" At my horrified expression, he rolled his eyes. "Oh, ease up, Elena. Just a little vampire humor."

"Eating people. Hilarious."

"You'd be surprised. I'll tell you some stories sometime."

"Please don't."

"Spoilsport." He plucked his sunglasses from his collar and slid them on. "So, c'mon now. Wouldn't want to be late." His brows drifted up. "Unless you actually don't like your friends and won't mind if I eat one of them." His grin took on a sardonic twist. "And I'm not joking this time, bee tee dubs."

I sucked down a deep breath and managed to slide a foot towards the car. The second step was easier. The one after that even moreso, as if the momentum was building once I got going. So it went, until I had made it all the way to the passenger side of the convertible.

Damon appeared in front of me again, making me jump. He ignored my startled breath, opening the door for me. Peering over the rims of his sunglasses, he wiggled his brows. "Miss Gilbert."

If my heart kept jumping whenever he got near, I was going to have a heart attack before the day was out. I slid inside and let him shut the door. He appeared at the other side of the car. Sitting inside and pulling his door closed, Damon looked over and said, "Seat belt."

I pulled the strap out and buckled in, trying not to feel as if I were wrapping a chain around myself.

Damon grinned and started the engine. "Now this, Elena," he started before the engine suddenly roared, startling me into gripping the edge of the door, "is a nineteen sixty-nine Chevrolet Camaro." He shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway. "Try not to look so terrified." He threw the car into drive and took off down the street. Even though we were just cruising down neighborhood streets and not going very fast, the wind still picked up. I was glad I'd tied Elena's long hair back into a ponytail.

"Can't imagine why I'd be scared. Who wouldn't love a joy ride with a psychotic vampire."

"This isn't a joy ride. You'll know when I take you on one of those."

I noticed he didn't dispute the psychotic part. And I didn't like his use of when instead of if. I hoped he was talking about the trip to Georgia he drags Elena on later.

He didn't have a modern stereo in his dashboard. Instead, it looked like the original radio that came with the car. It was tuned to the classic rock station. I was somehow unsurprised that Damon liked eighties hair bands. I tried to picture him with a mullet and nearly broke into peels of nervous laughter.

"Cute turtleneck." The high collar of my shirt pulled slightly out, right where I'd put a pair of band aids over the puncture wounds.

My heart rabbited. I jerked aside, slapping his fingers away before I could think better of it. "Don't touch me."

He smirked as he took his hand back, holding it up.

My heartrate stayed elevated. I leaned slightly towards the door instead of settling back into the leather seat. As the neighborhood houses morphed into brick storefronts, I wondered what the point of this was. Damon wasn't talking. He seemed content to just soak up the sun as he navigated the streets.

I wasn't about to break the silence. Who knew what he'd start talking about. One of his 'funny' stories?

I let out a relieved sigh as soon as the school appeared. Not that I thought Damon was taking me somewhere to murder me, really. He wouldn't have needed to leave the house for that. But it was still reassuring to know the ride was almost over.

The camaro purred like a sated tiger as it glided into the parking lot and rolled up the lane. Damon, arm slung over my seat and sunglasses on his face, soaked up the stares of the students like an attention starved sponge. I hugged my bag tighter. "See," he said as he pulled near the curb, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Yeah. It's been great." I had my hand on the door handle as soon as the camaro rolled to a stop. "Bye."

His hand landed on my shoulder, a firm warning grip keeping me in place. Suddenly he was leaning into me, his face right next to mine. I stared, wide eyed, as his breath stroked my lips. He stayed like that for a moment and then, ever so slightly, tilted his head to the side and stared over the rim of his sunglasses at something behind me.

"Have a lovely day, Elena," he murmured into my ear. Straightening back into his seat, he winked.

As soon as his hand let go of my shoulder, I was shoving the door open and jumping out.

"I'll see you after school," he added as I shut the door. My answering glare bounced off his smirking face.

Head down, I quickstepped away. I was up onto the sidewalk when I heard the convertible's engine growl as he pulled away. Sighing in relief, I lifted my chin.

And immediately saw Stefan.

Jaw clenched, backpack strap straining in his white-knuckled fist, he glared at the shrinking camaro.

Damon had been taunting Stefan. Damon had threatened Caroline and Bonnie, manipulated me into getting into a car with him, so he could put on a show for his brother.

_Bastard_.

My anger started as a smoldering heat in the pit of my stomach, climbed up my spine and set my cheeks on fire. Flushed and quivering, I struggled against the childish urge to kick at something, shout at someone. Mostly a certain smug-faced blood sucker.

While I silently fumed, I realized that while Stefan may have been Damon's intended audience, he hadn't been the only one. Half the school must have noticed—or so it looked like from the crowd of teenagers who had nothing better to do than stand around and gossip.

Including Elena's friends. I could see Tyler and Vicki over on a nearby bench, watching me and trading words that made each other snicker. Matt was frowning from his spot beside his truck. Caroline had been holding court by the doors but was now marching across the grounds towards me. Bonnie, who'd also been arriving from the parking lot, was the first to reach me. "Who was _that_."

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

Surprised, Bonnie fell in next to me as I headed for Stefan. "No, pretty sure I do."

I realized she wasn't going to let this drop. Why would she? Her best friend had just arrived with a hot mystery guy in an expensive sports car. "Damon Salvatore. Stefan's older brother."

"That's Stefan's brother?" She shook her head. "Wow. The gorgeous gene must run in the family."

"Yeah, well. He's nothing like Stefan. He's arrogant. Selfish. Cruel."

Bonnie's eyes widened with each cutting, nearly-spat out description. "Then how'd you end up with him?"

I didn't know what to say. Bonnie didn't believe her grandmother yet. At the same time, she'd have to work with Damon—would even one day become best friends with him. Say the wrong thing, and I'd poison the well.

On the other hand, Damon had threatened her, and she wasn't able to defend herself yet.

"Because he's good at getting what he wants," I sighed. "Try to steer clear of him, Bonnie. He and Stefan have issues. And he's not beneath using people. You don't want to get into the middle of it."

"But you're in the middle?"

"Apparently."

Caroline had reached us. I could see the questions forming as she took a breath to speak. "I thought you weren't going to need any more rides."

"So did I," I muttered.

Hands on her hips, Caroline ordered, "Spill."

"His name's Damon. He's Stefan's older brother," Bonnie answered for me. "And he's a jerk who we should stay away from."

She gave a disbelieving huff. "We should, should we?"

Oh no. "Caroline, he's bad news."

"Then why are you riding around with him?" Caroline demanded.

"Because he's using me to get to Stefan."

Caroline's lips mashed together before she said, "That doesn't explain why you got into his car." She turned suspicious. "Unless you're trying to make Stefan jealous?"

"I'm not," I said flatly. "There's nothing to be jealous of. Besides, Stefan and I are friends."

"Friends."

"I mean, we just met, but I'd like to be. I think we are. He agreed to hang out."

Caroline stared. "I don't even know where to begin," she declared, throwing her hands out to the side. She strode back to the small gathering of girls she'd been talking with.

Frowning, Bonnie and I shared a look. "She'll get over it," Bonnie soothed.

I grimaced and rubbed at my forehead. "I'm messing everything up."

"No. Care's being Care."

"I better explain things to Stefan," I muttered.

"Okay. Meet you at my locker?"

I nodded. Bonnie headed off to the doors, parting with an encouraging grin. I couldn't wait till she could give Damon aneurysms. It would make dealing with him so much easier. At least until he got over his fixation with Katherine and started giving a damn about Mystic Falls.

Stefan was seated on top of a picnic table that had been set up beneath a giant maple. Patches of sunlight and shadow flitted around him like butterflies. He'd had his head down in thought but straightened up as he noticed my approach.

His stare was searching, wandering all over my face. "Are you alright?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to say no, but then what? Stefan would try to enact his, 'Lock Damon Up,' plan early? All that would accomplish was getting Zach killed sooner than it had happened on the show. I don't think Zach had even shown him the room of vervain yet.

But Damon was a problem. Something had to be done.

I settled on saying, "Your brother is an ass."

Stefan cracked a slender little smile. It was the barest lift of his lips, but it eased some of the lingering anger from his face. "Yeah. Sorry."

"It's not your fault."

Brows furrowed, Stefan glanced down. I remembered he did, in fact, blame himself for Damon. "But you're okay?"

"Aside from a bad case of windswept hair," I patted at the loose hairs that had fallen out of my ponytail, "I'm fine."

"Your hair looks lovely."

Fighting the urge to look away from the intensity of his stare, I swept a few of the strands behind my ears. "Well. It was a lot neater before Damon insisted on driving me."

That little smile ticked a bit higher. "I stand by my earlier comment."

Grabbing my upper arm, I turned to side to look at something other than his earnest, handsome face. I settled on the line of buses dropping students off.

"I looked for your phone this morning." Stefan said, drawing me back. "I'm sorry but I couldn't find it."

"Oh." I adjusted the bag's strap before letting my hand fall. "It's alright. Thank you for going to all the trouble."

He shook his head. "It wasn't."

"I guess I'll have to talk to my Aunt about getting a new one." That would be a fun conversation.

He nodded. I noticed the crowd of students around us were starting to thin out as more trickled inside. "I better go. I promised to meet Bonnie before class."

Stefan hopped off the table. "My locker isn't too far from yours. Mind if I walk with you?"

"'Course not."

As we walked, we talked about the reading list for our upcoming English class. We had both read everything on it, not that the news surprised me. He'd probably read most of it when it was originally published. Stefan and I went our separate ways once I met up with Bonnie, and after we headed towards my locker, went on to class.

The rest of the morning passed a lot like the first. Well, there was more discussion and lecturing. I knew the way to English and was able to find a better seat—which happened to be near Stefan and Caroline. A pop quiz in Biology _really_ made me regret not doing the homework the night before.

Which led to History before lunch. Stefan again sat fairly close, and it wasn't long through the lesson that I was glad for it. The instructor was really on a tear about a Civil War battle called the Battle of Willow Creek.

After he'd subtly insulted Bonnie and Matt, it was my turn. "Elena. Surely you can enlighten us about one of the town's most historic events?"

I glanced down at the textbook, flipping through a few pages, skimming for Willow Creek. Would this even have been in the reading? I thought it was a general American History course. Was the Battle of Willow Creek so pivotal that it'd be in a standard textbook?

"Willow Creek?" I asked, squinting.

"Yes, Elena. It was fought right here in Mystic Falls."

Oh. Well then it must've been bullshit, because Mystic Falls wasn't a real place. Annoyed, I pressed my lips together before admitting, "I don't know."

"I was lenient last year, Elena. For obvious reasons." Oh. Wow. Right. _This_ guy. "But that ended over summer break."

I wanted to ask if it was because her—my—parents magically came back to life, but I kept my mouth shut. Let the asshole dig his own grave.

Wait. Damon kills him. Bad metaphor.

"There were three hundred and forty-six casualties, unless you're counting civilians," Stefan interjected. And Stefan would know.

The whole class looked from him to the teacher. "That's correct. Mister—"

"Salvatore."

"Any relation to the original settlers here at Mystic Falls?"

I couldn't help but turn to watch Stefan, careful to keep my amusement from showing. He glanced aside before answering, "Distant."

Liar.

"Very good. Except there weren't any civilian casualties in this battle," he said before moving around his desk.

"Actually, there were twenty-seven, sir," Stefan corrected, halting the teacher in his tracks. "Confederate soldiers fired on a church. They believed it housed weapons. They were wrong." Stefan's voice was the embodiment of confident. No wonder. That was the night he was turned, and the other vampires entombed. "It was a night of great loss."

And then Stefan delivered the knockout. "The founder's archives are stored at Civil Hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mister Tanner."

You could hear the 'ooo's throughout the room. The teacher, Tanner, could only respond with an attempt at a face-saving smile. Didn't work.

I glanced at my notes, grinning. That was beautiful.

Tanner flipped open his book. "Thank you, Mister Salvatore. Everyone, page thirty-three."

I flipped forward the required pages before peering out the corner of my eye. Stefan met my glance. His mouth lifted into that small smile I was really beginning to adore.

The rest of the class was filled with history that was actually covered by our textbooks. I made a mental note to memorize dates and figures. It seemed like he'd be one of _those_ history teachers. I was good at the cause and effect when it came to history, remembering the context and environment and the events themselves, but I hadn't been wholly lying when I told Stefan I was terrible with numbers. I was horrible at remembering dates, too.

Wouldn't that make the rest of my time here fun. Monsters and sacrifices and _homework_. Oh my.

When the bell rung, I was happy to stand and get out of there. I waited just outside the door for Bonnie and Stefan. I didn't miss the look Tanner threw him as he walked out, either. Stefan had not endeared himself with that little stunt.

I remembered there would be another incident between them. Stefan rattling off dates, showing Tanner up again. Tanner wouldn't be a Stefan convert until he saw him play football.

And then Tanner would die.

My buoyed mood fell. If I knew about it ahead of time, did that make me responsible for it if it happened? This seemed like one of those Good Samaritan debates.

"Right, Elena?"

Bonnie and Stefan watched me with expectant looks on their faces. I had no idea what they'd been talking about.

I offered an apologetic smile. "Sorry, can you repeat that? I kind of spaced out for a minute."

Bonnie's brows pinched together in concern. "I was telling Stefan he should join us for lunch."

"I don't want to intrude."

I wondered if he was being polite or looking for an excuse to go hunting. I decided to reassure him. "You wouldn't be intruding. But if you have other plans, that's fine."

"No." He shifted his bookbag higher up his shoulder. "I'd like to sit with you."

We headed to the cafeteria, picked our food up from the line and ended up at the same table with the same people as the day before, plus Stefan. Caroline made the mistake of asking Stefan about his brother.

"We don't speak." Stefan poked at his salisbury steak. I wondered if he regretted his choice to follow us.

"Ever?" Bonnie asked, surprised.

Stefan paused in his inspection of the food to look up and add, "Whenever we have to talk, we end up fighting." He accepted the packet of ketchup I handed to him and looked to Caroline. "Wherever my brother goes, someone ends up hurt. Take my advice and avoid him."

"Elena doesn't seem eager to take your advice," Caroline said.

"You should," he said quietly to me.

I folded my arms and stared down at the rest of my lunch, appetite gone.

Sensing the disquiet, Bonnie thankfully changed the subject back to classes. Which was how Stefan and I got back to our earlier conversation about books we'd read. That led to a discussion of our favorites. And while Elena was a Victorian romance lover, at least on the show she'd been, my tastes were more for modern historical romances and thrillers. Stefan and I got into a discussion of which was the better book: Red Dragon or Silence of the Lambs. I was firmly on the side of Red Dragon, he stuck with Lambs.

The rest of the day passed too soon. By the time the last bell rang, and I was done dragging my feet to my locker, it felt like only a few minutes had passed instead of hours.

Outside, the parking lot was filled with cars backing out and lining up for the exits. I scanned the front of the school, where a line of cars had parked along the curb in front of the entrance. Damon's car wasn't among them. I wondered if he'd forgotten.

I should have known better.

The distinctive growl of the camaro's engine came rumbling down the lane. He parked alongside the curb. The car's sleek sky blue lines gleamed in the sun. Damon's arm was draped over the wheel, his sunglasses tilted down as he met my nervous gaze. His lips curled.

I managed a tight smile at Bonnie. "See you tonight."

Bonnie, shielding her eyes against the sunshine, smiled back.

"Elena." Stefan placed a hand on my arm. "You don't have to do this."

But right as he said that, Caroline strutted past us and walked right up to the passenger door. "Hi. I'm Caroline. Elena's friend."

Damon tilted his head, sights roaming over Caroline. "Damon."

"This is a really amazing car," she said while leaning forward, forearms resting on the door.

"Why, thank you. It's nice to know there are people who appreciate her." His hand ran along the wheel with a lover's caress.

I rolled my eyes. I appreciated the car. It was the driver I had a problem with.

While Caroline continued to flirt, and Damon replied in kind, I met Stefan's concerned stare. "I kind of do." I mustered another smile for him. "See you at the Falls."

He nodded. I adjusted my bag's strap and, as if going into battle—which I kind of was—marched over to Damon's car.

Caroline was laughing at something Damon had said as I approached. Damon's sights flicked over her shoulder to me. He winked. I frowned.

"I like your friend, Elena," Damon called.

I fixed him with another unamused look before shifting my attention to Caroline. She straightened back up, smile stiffening as she regarded me. "So where are you going?"

"Home," Damon and I answered simultaneously.

I started, looking over at Damon. He turned his head to stare out the windshield. "I did say I'd take you home."

"Sounds boring," Caroline pouted.

Damon rolled back around. "So boring."

"You should come to the falls tonight," Caroline went on.

My eyes widened as I attempted to get her attention. "No way." At their combined stares, I forced my cheeks to pull the corners of my mouth up into something resembling a smile. "I'm sure Damon doesn't want to waste his time at some high school party," I tried to keep it light, but ended up sounding frantic.

"Don't be silly, Elena." His lips twisted. "I love high school parties." He focused on Caroline again. "You'll be there, won't you?"

"Obviously," she laughed. "I'm helping set everything up."

Of course she was.

"Then I'll _definitely_ be there." His smile was a wicked thing. His sights shifted to me. "Better get going."

"Aw. So soon?" Caroline pouted.

Damon sighed. "'Fraid so. Elena made me promise. There and back." He crooked a finger at me.

My frown deepened, but I did as he bid. Sliding around Caroline, who glowed with triumph, I pulled open the car door and lowered myself into the leather seat.

As soon as the door was shut, Damon sent a sinful grin Caroline's way. "See you around, Caroline."

"I'll hold you to that," she replied, flicking her blonde curls back behind her shoulder.

Damon's grin widened before the engine growled and the car took off.

"You said you'd leave her alone if I rode with you," I accused as he swung into one of the parking lanes that headed back out of the lot.

"I didn't do anything. She came to me." Damon sighed. "These looks. They're a curse."

Sonofa—

"But don't let it be said I'm not a man of my word." I eyed him doubtfully. He lifted a hand. "I won't touch a blonde hair on her head. So long as you remain—" he pretended to think about it, "agreeable."

"Fine," I all but growled.

Damon turned out of the lot and onto the main road without signaling. "Jealous?"

"Concerned." I fell back against the seat and folded my arms. "Caroline doesn't deserve to be the rope in the Salvatore brothers' latest game of tug-of-war."

"There's a simple solution to that. Don't give my brother the time of day."

I'd rather not give _him_ the time of day but had enough sense not to say it. "Why do you really want to go to a party full of drunk teenagers, Damon?"

"Because it's a party full of drunk teenagers." His eyes sharpened, like a pair of slate flints. "And I'm thirsty."

I swallowed and slid further down in the seat. "Please don't hurt anyone."

He hummed. "Hurting is kind of necessary."

"No, it's not. You could drink out of blood bags."

"And deny them to the poor soul who needs a blood transfusion?" His nose wrinkled. "Besides, blood tastes differently when it's been refrigerated."

"But you could do it."

He sighed. "I could. But why should I?"

"Because it's not right to attack people." I couldn't believe I had to spell this out.

Damon shrugged. "Don't care." He stretched his other arm out over the wheel before drawing his right back. "That's the best part about being a vampire, Elena. The old rules just don't apply anymore. Do what you want, whenever you want."

"And you want to hurt people."

"I want to quench my thirst." He glanced over. "I'm a vampire. I drink human blood to survive. It's _natural_."

"But you can do that without hurting or killing."

"But I don't _care_."

I thought for a moment, weighing the risk. But, hell, I had to push on his rusty moral compass at some point. "I don't think that's true."

Behind his shades, Damon rolled his eyes.

"I think you do care. You're just determined to pretend you don't."

"There's a switch we have. We can turn our emotions off like," he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, "that."

But I remembered the look on Damon's face when he'd finished feeding. How tender his gaze had been, his expression wistful as he lost himself to a memory. "Except you haven't."

"'Course I have."

"If that were true, you wouldn't care about what your brother thinks so much."

"We all have our hobbies."

"Say whatever you want, Damon." The car turned into Elena's driveway and idled. Damon lounged in the driver's seat, an arm stretched over the wheel as the other rested across his door. I took in the way his posture screamed indifference and saw it for the act it was. "But you don't fool me."

"Or maybe you want to believe I'm capable of caring whether people live or die to convince yourself I won't kill you," Damon suggested airily.

I forced myself to smile, even though he probably heard my pulse racing. "You say the sweetest things."

He turned his head and grinned. "See you tonight, Elena."

I worked to stay calm as I got out. His stare followed me all the way to the door. As soon as I was on the other side, I fell against it, sliding down to the ground, bag dropping beside me. He pulled out of the drive, and only once the rumble of his car disappeared down the street was I able to breathe freely.

Sinking my head into my hands, I wondered what I was going to do tonight. Both Salvatores at a party full of rowdy, drunk teens. Damon still trying to make life hell for Stefan.

It sounded like a recipe for disaster.


	6. Six

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.

**Chapter Six**

I found the bulbs in a downstairs storage closet.

Hunting for them gave me something to think about other than Damon's threats and the insanity of being stuck in a television show. I went to change the bedroom's first, but when I threw the switch, the light turned right on. A test of the rest of the lights were the same. The lights worked just fine.

I tried to convince myself it was a wiring issue, but there's no denying I felt more vulnerable in the Gilbert house.

Replacing the bulbs back into the supply closet, I continued snooping around. I didn't find anything exciting. The vampire-related weapons and diaries were at the lake house. My biggest discovery were the heirlooms and a ton of documents related to the family's history stored in the basement. I only glanced through some of it before going back upstairs.

Back in Elena's room, I settled in for some homework. My poor performance in Biology and Tanner's comments in History convinced me to finish it before the party tonight. Besides, it was a normal thing to do, nothing supernatural involved. Trigonometry took the longest, but by the time I was done with the chapter questions for history, the sun was getting low in the sky. "Hope you appreciate this, Elena," I muttered before huffing out a tired breath.

I was scouring Elena's closet when the phone rang.

Picking up a cordless handset from her desk, I said, "Hello?"

"Elena," Caroline said in a frantic rush, "I needed you here an hour ago!"

Crap. "Sorry. I lost track of time." I grabbed the first thing I could reach that had long sleeves. Elena had nothing but nice clothes, anyway. I couldn't go wrong.

"Well, get over here."

Uh, where was here? I wondered if there was a non-suspicious or weird way to ask this when the phone clicked and the dial tone hummed in my ear. "Great."

I ended up looking the park up online. It wasn't that difficult to get to from highway seventy-five, one of three roads that led out of town.

I hurried through another shower and was drying my hair when there was a knock on the connecting door. I fiddled with the hairdryer until I found the power button. "Yes?"

There was a beat of silence. "I heard you're driving again, but the car was in the garage," Jeremy said, voice muffled by the wood.

"Someone else took me to school today, but yeah. I drove to the Grill."

"You driving to the party?"

"I'm leaving as soon as I'm done. Caroline wants my help."

"Can I ride along?"

"Oh. Sure."

"Cool."

"Let me finish up."

Jeremy agreed and left me to it.

Once I was dressed and ready, I knocked on his door. He walked out in a hoodie and jacket. Together we made our way down to the kitchen. Jenna hadn't come home yet, so I left a note on the fridge saying we'd be at the falls.

The sun was on the last leg of its journey across the horizon. The sky was flush in pastel pinks and violets, gradually settling into molten gold. It was pleasant enough out to roll the windows down as we pulled out of the garage, letting in the song of crickets. Jeremy plugged his mp3 player into the stereo and alternative rock pounded out the speakers.

"Doesn't driver pick the music?"

Jeremy's answering shrug was largely swallowed up beneath all the layers he wore.

Well, this would be fun.

This time, it was a right out of the driveway. I paid attention to the signs as I navigated the neighborhood. I needed to take Grotto Avenue instead of Washington. It would lead to the infamous Wickery Bridge and connect to seventy-five.

Once we'd turned onto Grotto, the speed limit picked up to forty-five, and the wind rushed past the window as I sped up. I had to speak louder to be heard. "How have things been lately?"

Staring out the passenger window, Jeremy's reply was bitter. "How do you think?"

I had nothing to say to that. I watched the dashed yellow line on the road, the trees lining either side speed by as I tried coming up with something more innocuous. "How are your classes?"

Another half-hidden shrug. "Alright I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah." Jeremy fitted his hand through the crack in his window and sliced through the wind.

"Good talk," I muttered.

I thought the wind would've taken my words, but Jeremy lifted his other hand in a thumbs up.

The wind and music replaced any attempts at conversation after that. The only time I wondered if I should try to say something was as we approached the Wickery Bridge. I ran a critical eye over the structure. Whatever damage had been caused when their parents' minivan had gone into the river must have been repaired.

Jeremy stared out the window as he'd been doing that the whole way. Something changed, though. Like a heavy and colorless smog that saturated the car, the mood turned dark and toxic, suffocating any attempts at conversation.

It didn't let up until the bridge disappeared behind us and we'd reached the highway. The rush of wind turned into a roar. The sun glared off the horizon and made it hard to see even with Elena's sunglasses and the visor. It was a relief when it sank beneath the treetops, and I was able to see comfortably again.

The sky was all deep merlots and dark heather by the time I saw the turn off. Rocks ground beneath the tires and pelted the undercarriage as we drove down a gravel road that twisted snake-like between the woods. Once we were half a mile in, the road turned paved. The smoother drive led up a steep hill to a large parking lot. Several vehicles were already there, a mixture of cars and trucks and vans. I pulled in and joined them.

Jeremy and I got out. Distant voices drifted through the trees, almost drowned out by the frenzied chirrup of crickets. I followed Jeremy, who didn't hesitate to step off the pavement to a dirt trail that led further up a gently sloping hill. Old trees stretched overhead all around us, growing darker as the last light of the sun surrendered to the silvery glow of a distant half-moon that had begun its ascent.

I hugged my jacket tighter around me. There was a humidity to the air that made it chillier than it had felt during the drive. I supposed it came from the falls that granted the park its name, though I had no idea where they were.

We found Caroline at a series of pavilions that had carved out a small space in the middle of the woods. Basically, the giant frames of empty houses. She was busy tearing plastic cups out of their packaging and stacking them on the fold-out tables pushed flush against one of the open-air railings. Bonnie was beside her.

"Hey Elena, Jer," Bonnie greeted.

As Jeremy raised a hand and gave a close-lipped grin, Caroline spun about. "Good! Jeremy, help Aaron and Matt hang lights over the bridge."

She must have meant more lights like the ones strung around the pavilion. Outdoor Christmas lights by the look of them, except with bigger, colorless bulbs. They were pretty, if unnecessary. Several outdoor floodlights that must have been put up by the park provided more than enough light, and a bonfire was already flickering away in a pit a safe distance away.

Jeremy's expression didn't so much as twitch. "Hello to you too, Caroline."

Caroline's lips pressed into a line as she sent Jeremy a _look_. "Hello, Jeremy. So nice to see you." She flashed a plastic princess smile. "Please help Aaron and Matt."

Jeremy rolled his eyes and, hands stuffed into his pockets, headed out of the pavilion to one of the paths that led deeper into the forest.

"There's a bunch of six packs in the back of Aaron's truck," Caroline then informed me with all the command of an empress. I didn't know what Aaron's truck looked like, but it shouldn't be hard to find. Just look for the liquor store in the back.

I ended up trudging back and forth through the woods as night crept over the forest. Caroline and Bonnie just set up tables and coolers. I had a feeling I was being punished for 'forgetting' to arrive earlier.

Teenagers started to trickle in, a strong bass beat began to pulse through the trees, and the lot was filling up. I was halfway through—she wasn't kidding about it being a bunch of beer—when a distinct rumble echoed through the trees. I squinted as headlights pierced the darkness and shone in my face.

I wasn't surprised when those headlights slowed as they approached, stopping a short ways after passing me, revealing the distinctive blue camaro with Damon in the driver's seat. "Hello, Elena."

"Damon," I sighed.

His eyes darted towards the six packs and back to me. "Am I too early?"

"No. I think it's just starting." I picked up four more six packs. The pair I carried in each hand clinked merrily as the bottles swayed. Carefully, I hopped off the truck bed.

"I prefer to be fashionably late," Damon said.

"Why am I not surprised." I turned and headed back up the path.

The camaro gave a purr before gliding away as I stepped off the pavement and onto the hard-packed ground. There was still enough space that he'd find something. I anticipated it wouldn't be long before he was pestering me again.

Sure enough, I wasn't a quarter of the way up when he appeared beside me. He sidestepped around until he was doing his backwards walk in front of me, reaching out for the cases of beer. "Allow me."

I held them back. "I've got it, Damon."

"Elena."

"Damon." I wondered if he was actually tripping every other step, and just moving too fast for me to see it.

"I can have this done before you even reach the top," he reminded me.

"And how will I explain that?"

The expensive silk shirt, top few buttons undone, stretched across his shoulders as he shrugged. "Who will care enough to ask?"

I did want this task to be over. I slowly held out the beer. "Fine."

He smirked as he took the cases from me—and promptly disappeared from sight. I did hear the stir of leaves every other second. It was less than a minute when he appeared beside me again. "Finished." If smugness were a resource, Damon would've had enough for every man, woman, and child on the planet.

I replied with a grudging, "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Elena." Before I could start up the hill, his arm ended up around my shoulders. His warmth still managed to surprise me. "Why don't you introduce me to your friends?"

I shook my head. "No."

Damon's arm slid off me. He started walking. "Maybe I'll see if Caroline wants—"

I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. He allowed it. "You promised."

"As long as you," he tapped my nose, "were agreeable."

"Do you have to threaten all the girls?" I groused.

"No. Not usually." Arm back around my shoulders, he grinned. "You're special."

"Why?"

The trail crunched underfoot as he guided me towards the pavilions. "Why what?"

"Why am I special?" I knew it had to do with Katherine, but wasn't he supposed to still be in love with her? Why spend so much of his time bothering me?

Something in his stare set my nerves alight with a nervous energy. It skittered along my spine and spread out until every inch of me was alive and awake. "You're beautiful. Very seductive."

Uncomfortable in my suddenly hypersensitive skin, I squirmed. Afraid it'd tip him off to his effect on me, I tried for nonchalant. "Seductive?" I scoffed. "And you've met hundreds of beautiful, seductive women."

"None like you," he returned.

I gave him a flat stare.

His brows rose. "It's true."

I pictured a certain self-centered vampire in period clothes. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you have major trust issues."

"Can't imagine why."

We reached the top of the hill and the clearing. The pavilions were lit, strung lights adding a softer, magical quality the harsher park lights lacked. A good gathering of people was strewn about, arrayed in clusters around the wooden structures, the grass and the fire, to the treeline. The conversations were already lively. Even as we stood there, I could hear more coming up the trail behind us.

"Lets get a drink," Damon suggested, guiding me towards the coolers I'd spent the early portion of the night filling.

I eyed him. "What do you mean by a drink?"

He tilted his head towards me and smirked. The closer we moved towards people, the more tense I became. Thankfully, he went for the beers instead of the teens hanging out beside them, snagging a pair of bottles by the neck. His thumb slipped under the edge of one's cap, popping the top off without effort. He held it out to me.

I accepted, still fixing a weary eye on him as he opened the other. I wasn't a fan of beer, but I definitely wanted a drink. I endured the yeasty flavor for a good-sized gulp. Pulling the bottle away, I'd have wiped my lips, but I had lip gloss on. I settled for rubbing them together.

Damon guided me back up to the largest of the three pavilions. The creak of our steps almost lost to the shifts and pounding of all the other feet. The smell of pine was strongest here. The people parted before us like a school of tiny fish breaking apart and gliding around a bigger predator.

Caroline and Bonnie were at the back railing, each one with a cup of what I assumed would be beer. Madison, Sarah, Aaron, and a few other cheerleaders and football players made up the rest of Caroline's entourage. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Damon. "You came!"

"I said I would," he answered.

Still trapped under the hard muscle of his arm, I settled for another swig.

"Everyone, this is Damon. Damon, this is everyone," Caroline introduced.

"Yeah. Elena's mentioned most of you." He pointed with the hand holding his beer. "Bonnie, right?"

Bonnie nodded before her gaze slid to me, a clear question in her pale green gaze. I just shook my head.

Damon proceeded to freak me out by naming the rest of the little group, even the three I wasn't familiar with. He knew Elena's friends better than me.

"When did you and Damon get together, Elena?" A blonde cheerleader that Damon had called Sophie had a pixie's face and a beauty mark over her left eye.

"Yesterday," he answered before I had a chance to say anything.

We exchanged a glance, mine already finished, his full of mischief. I fumed, wishing I could shrug out of his hold, and took another drink.

Caroline's earlier enthusiasm had dimmed. "So this is, what," her smile threatened to fall off her face, "a date?"

"Mmhmm," Damon replied, pulling me closer to him.

Bonnie's brows flew up. "Oh."

Half of my bottle was already gone.

"In fact, I really should be thanking you for tonight, Caroline," he went on blithely. "Elena wasn't sure about going out with someone as old as me. Then your name came up, and she became much more agreeable."

Mother fu—

"Really," Caroline replied. Flatly. Her stare was piercing, like a dagger. One she probably thought she'd pulled out of her back.

A series of looks exchanged between the others ensured that this news was going to be around the whole school by tomorrow morning.

"Elena, can I talk to you real quick," Bonnie interjected.

"Absolutely Bonnie," I said, relief lightening my voice.

Damon shot me a close-lipped smile. "Don't wander off too far," he said into the top of my head. "Wouldn't want to run into any animals."

I nodded, and Damon's arm left my shoulders, but not before his hand skimmed my spine. I shivered before hurrying to Bonnie's side, and the two of us headed over towards a spot near the fire pit while Damon went about charming the rest of Elena's friends.

As soon as we were down the pavilion's steps, Bonnie turned to me. "What's going on, Elena?"

I wasn't sure what to say. Damon had to be listening. "Damon said he wanted to go with me to the falls." I shrugged.

"You said he was using you to get to Stefan," Bonnie reminded me.

My lips twisted of their own accord. "Yeah. I think I maybe judged him a little harshly." I forced myself to add, "He's been great so far."

"And when Stefan shows up?"

We reached a spot a few feet from the fire, close enough to see one another in the dancing light, but far enough for some privacy. "I told you. Stefan and I are friends."

"Friends don't look at each other the way you two did the other night and at lunch, Elena." Bonnie shook her head. "This seems like a bad idea."

No kidding. "It'll be fine, Bonnie." I forced a smile. "Just like you predicted."

She shot me a thoughtful look. "Maybe it's worth a try."

"What?" But I had a feeling of what she'd say.

"Reading your future." Bonnie shook her head. "It's crazy, I know. But Grams says I can."

"Long as you aren't charging ten bucks a minute," I quipped with a small smile.

Bonnie snorted. "Here," she held out a hand. "Let me see your hand."

Remembering she'd seen the crow and Damon in the show, I let her close her eyes to concentrate and took her hand.

Bonnie's eyes popped open immediately. She dropped my hand like it was red hot and took a step back, a strange look on her face.

I frowned. "What?"

"I—I don't know."

"Bonnie?"

"A woman."

What?

"I was holding her hand instead of yours. You were behind her, yelling at me." My blood turned to ice. "I couldn't hear what you were saying. It was like some kind of fog separated us. But you were frantic. And scared."

I stared. I couldn't think of anything to do or say, so I did and said nothing.

Bonnie shook her head, throwing up her hands. "I… I don't know. I don't know what I saw." She looked around and then said, "I'm going to get another beer."

I watched her rush off then turned far enough to look over my shoulder. There were a few people further back, but no doppelgänger.

That couldn't have been Elena, could it? Maybe Katherine?

Shivering, I rubbed at my arms. I could feel the fine hairs standing on end, tickling as my sleeves rubbed against them. Blowing out a breath, I turned to head back to the pavilion.

And nearly ran into a solid wall of muscle. I took a startled step back, head snapping up. "Stefan?"

He smiled. "Hey." His brows pinched together. "I didn't scare you, did I?"

"Just startled," I assured him.

His lips softened into that small smile. But it only lasted a moment before melting away. "Is something wrong? You look upset."

I took a breath and shook my head. "No, just—something weird Bonnie said."

"Oh?"

"It doesn't matter." I let my hands fall to my sides. "You made it."

His eyes were still searching my face, his expression concerned. He didn't think it was nothing. But his, "I did," suggested he was willing to drop it.

"Stefan!"

We both stiffened at the sudden greeting. Standing right behind Stefan, Damon sported a wry smirk.

Stefan levelled a low-browed, guarded stare at Damon. Damon met it with a smile, his crinkled eyes glinting like arctic light off an ice sheet. "Beer?" he offered, holding up an unopened bottle.

"What are you doing, Damon?" Stefan stared so hard it was as if he was trying to see into Damon's head.

"Well, Stefan, I'm enjoying the party I was invited to. You should give it a try sometime." Damon's gaze shifted to me. "Finished with your friend?"

Bonnie. I looked around and found her back up on the pavilion with Caroline and the others. She was hugging her arms, eyes darting around until they fell back on me. As soon as she met my stare, her eyes widened and slid away.

My brows gathered. "I guess so."

Damon shoved the beer into Stefan's hand and strutted over to my side. "Why don't we go look at the falls?" His arm found it's favorite perch across my shoulders.

Stefan's eyes fixed on me. I offered an apologetic smile before finishing my drink and setting the empty bottle on a log behind me. "Whatever."

Damon gave Stefan a little wave with the hand draped over my shoulder. "Later."

As Damon guided me back towards another trail, he turned to look over our shoulders behind him. "Oh, he's pissed," he gloated.

I caught sight of disappointed Caroline, eyes down on her cup while Bonnie looked troubled beside her. "Is there anyone you don't enjoy screwing with, Damon?"

"Hmm, let me think—nope." Damon and I rounded the trail and moved into the trees. Eventually the pavilions became a distant twinkle of lights through the leaves, and then disappeared.

There were more lights strung up along the trail. "Why do you want to make Stefan miserable?" I knew the story but wanted to hear it from him.

"Ask him." Damon lifted a bottle, and from the swig of beer inside. "Although Steffy's not being very open with you right now."

"What do you mean?"

Damon smirked. "Mm, not yet." He pulled me closer. "I want to see the look on his face when you figure it out."

That I was the spitting image of Katherine and that's why he's so interested in me? Yeah, Damon was going to be disappointed.

A bridge strung with lights waited ahead of us. It must have been the one the boys had worked on. Our footsteps thumped against the wood as we crossed to the middle. Damon guided me to the railing, where the lights twinkled along the arch overhead. Leaning an elbow on the rail, he nodded off in the distance. "Can you see them?"

I squinted and saw a hint of the falls in the glint of the moonlight. Mostly I heard them. A constant, low spray of churning water. "Not well."

"Want to get closer?" Damon asked before throwing the rest of his beer back and then tossing the bottle down into the river.

"It looks pretty far," I said doubtfully.

Damon moved his arm off my shoulders and turned around. "Hop on."

I blinked. "What? Like, on your back?"

"Like, yes. Duh."

"What, so you can get me somewhere secluded and feed?" I folded my arms, ignoring the excited tingle in my belly. "No thank you."

Damon looked over his shoulder. "I won't feed on you tonight."

"And I should believe you because…"

"Because I haven't lied to you."

"My bag," I corrected.

"I haven't lied to you today," he amended. He sighed. "Just get on, Elena. Do I need to threaten someone again?"

As I grit my teeth and walked over, I heard him mutter, "Most stubborn woman I've ever met." Knowing I was frustrating him me smile slightly.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. He extended his arms out to the side for my legs. Frowning, I hopped up. His hands cradled the backs of my thighs. I was glad I'd picked out a pair of jeans and not leggings or, heaven forbid, a skirt.

"Hold on tight," he said. "And don't let go."

I tightened my hold till, if he'd been human, he'd probably be choking. I also locked my ankles over his abs and said, "This is very Twilight."

"If you're expecting me to sparkle later on, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

Before I could reply, the bottom dropped out of my stomach. It was like one of those barrel rides, where they spin around so fast, you're pressed up against the wall while all your organs feel shoved back. If it weren't for Damon's grip on me, I doubt I'd have been able to hold on.

The world was a smear of darkness. I had to close my eyes and hide my face in the crook of his neck as gorge rose up my throat.

Thankfully, it was over almost as soon as it began. "Alright," he yelled over the roar of crashing water.

Able to breathe without feeling as if my lungs were being squeezed, I took a breath of humid air. I was cautious as I opened my eyes. Fortunately, we'd stopped. I lifted my head higher.

We were on the edge of a cliff overlooking the falls. The water looked like mercury in the moonlight. It flowed over the edge into a misting veil of cascading silver, plunging into the churning river below. Fireflies danced along the shore. Without the city lights, the stars were a bright dusting of glitter across a velvety darkness.

"It's beautiful," I breathed.

Damon looked back. His eyes were bright, more silver than blue, like the water and the stars. They stared for several long moments. Unable to endure the building tension any longer, I asked, "What?"

He blinked and turned back around. "Want to go skinny dipping?"

I shoved his shoulder. "No!"

"You're no fun, Elena," he complained.

I was about to make a comment about perverted crows when his muscles stilled beneath me. His head swiveled to the right. He walked towards the edge of the cliff, until he was close enough to lean over the ledge. Which he did… with me still riding his back.

I held on tighter, heart pounding against his back as the wet air rose up to hit my face and blow back my hair.

Then he stepped off the ledge.

It happened so fast I barely had time to draw a gasping breath before my stomach flew into my esophagus as we plummeted. The ground slammed into his feet, sending a shockwave up his legs. Damon merely straightened up and started walking, not so much as a twitch in his stride.

"Don't do that!"

"Shh." He nodded his head, letting go of one of my thighs to point. "Looks like I wasn't the only one with the idea to go skinny dipping."

I squinted in the direction he was pointing and discovered two distant figures bobbing in the water. They were—well. Yeah. They'd had the same idea. Their faces were mashed pretty firmly together. Averting my eyes, I turned to look back, and saw a pile of clothes strewn over a large boulder that had cracked apart from the cliff face.

Damon let go of my other leg, and I slid down his back to the ground. Before I could ask what he was doing, he had his shirt up and over his head.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. "What are you doing?!" I hissed, mortified at the expanse of naked back. I could trace the muscles with my eyes as they shifted beneath pale skin. The scapula of his shoulders slid together and apart. Biceps bulging as he moved his arms to— "Don't take off your pants!"

"SHH!" he hissed. "I swear, Elena, if you scare off dinner…" he threw a warning glare over his shoulder.

"Scare off—" my eyes rounded again. "You can't… _eat_ _them_!"

"Uh, yes I can." Damon moving his hands around to grip either side of the wasteland of his jeans was the only warning I had that he was about to drop them.

I looked away as I heard the rustle of stiff fabric and clicking of the zipper. "Damon, don't!"

"Stay here," he ordered.

Before I could think better of it, I looked around and grabbed his upper arm. I was careful not to look down, but to meet the annoyed stare of the vampire whose eyes were already darkening in anticipation. "Don't, Damon," I entreated again. "You don't have to. I'll drive you to the hospital myself. Help you get to the blood supply."

He stared at me as if I were mad. Considering his black and red eyes, it was a terrifying glare. "Elena. We've had this discussion. I can't feed from you, so I'm going to eat them," he flung a hand out, "instead."

I quivered, and my throat seized, but despite my suddenly chattering teeth, I managed to say, "Feed from me, then."

He paused, his dark eyes rounding in surprise. "You'd let me?"

I trembled but nodded.

His sights narrowed, face tilting down as his gaze flew over my body. He scoffed. "You care about a couple of strangers that much?"

"You won't kill me," I reasoned. Whether I was trying to convince myself or him, I wasn't sure.

His sights narrowed. "I won't? How can you be so certain of that?"

I couldn't admit to my knowledge of Katherine. "Because you like me. Enough to find out where we put the spare key to the front door and what my friend's names are. You wouldn't go to all that trouble just to murder me."

"You know, plenty of murderers go to that much trouble," he pointed out amiably.

I stared. "You care."

"I told you, I'm a vampire, Elena. I don't have any humanity."

"I don't believe that." I chewed my lip. "I think, somewhere deep down, you regret hurting people." His eyes narrowed. "And you want to go back to being human."

Damon stood still, the moonlight reflecting off his pale skin as if he were glowing. He stared with those monstrous eyes, veins pulsing beneath his eyelids, until they began to drain to his normal arctic gaze.

Relief so powerful I could have collapsed washed over me. I smiled, real and wide and unbelievably happy. Damon smiled back.

And I realized I'd made a terrible mistake.

His smile was a dead thing. His eyes empty of all emotion except fury. His cheeks pulled back so far it was almost as if he meant to snarl, instead. He ducked, grabbed his pants, and pulled them back up. By the time he had them fastened, the smile had fallen from my face.

His hadn't. It was like it was carved there.

He grabbed my arm. "Upsy daisy," he said, all faux-cheerfulness.

He nearly threw me as he swung me onto his back. I barely had time to wrap my arms and legs around him before he was leaping up the cliff. I couldn't watch him punching the rock with his fingers, instead I shut my eyes and did my best to endure the gravity-shifting speed at which he moved.

When we came to a stop, I heard voices off in the distance. The sharp and emotional words of two people fighting.

"I want you to know, you can thank Stefan for this."

"What?"

Damon grabbed my arm and dragged me with him. I had to step quickly to keep up. "I do love that Gilbert blood, and you did offer. But since I can't have yours, I'll have to take it from somewhere else."

I was confused as to what he meant, until we rounded a tree and—

Vicki and Jeremy.

Damon's hand was gone, along with the rest of him. Suddenly he was in front of Vicki. She only had time to widen her eyes in shock before, "You're thirsty. You're going back to the party for a drink."

"Hey, whatever. I'm out of here," she replied before turning around.

"What the hell?" Jeremy demanded. He put his hand on Damon's bare shoulder as Vicki continued walking away.

"Jeremy!" I shouted, terrified.

Damon whirled around. His eyes were black. His lips were drawn back, revealing all his teeth. His canines were pointed and glistened. His jaw opened so wide it looked as if it couldn't be attached to his skull.

"Damon! No!"

Jeremy shouted. Damon struck.

It was so fast and hard, it was as if Damon had tackled him. Jeremy fell back, Damon on top of him. They hit the ground. Something squelched and Jeremy screamed. Damon snarled.

I stared, horrified. Then I was moving. Skidding over rock and moss and leaves and dirt as Jeremy wriggled and shouted in pain. As the slurping continued.

At their side, I stood frozen for too long, trying to figure out what to do. I finally grabbed a handful of Damon's hair and tried wrenching him off. He ignored me. Blood was pooling on the ground. Some of it slid to the tip of Elena's shoe.

Jeremy had stopped screaming and was gazing up at the treetops with glazed eyes. I realized Damon intended to kill him.

"DAMON!"

I grabbed another fistful of hair and yanked. I ended up with handfuls of black hair, but Damon was still draining Jeremy. I yelled, kicked at his ribs. Jeremy's eyes slid shut.

And then Damon was flying away from him.

His side slammed into a distant tree, hard. He grunted as he landed on the ground.

And standing over Jeremy and in front of me was Stefan.

Damon, rubbing the back of his hand across his chin, smearing Jeremy's blood over his face, let out a mocking laugh. "Really, Stefan? This again?"

Stefan's jaw ticked. "I won't let you hurt her."

Damon snorted. "That's what you said last time." He grinned, showing off his pink-stained teeth. "Didn't stop me then, either."

"You've gotten what you wanted," Stefan said. "Leave."

"I don't know. He's still breathing."

I grabbed Jeremy and leaned over him.

"Is this helping, brother?" Stefan asked. "Does it make you feel less like a traitor to her memory?"

Damon grinned. "As if she compares."

"You're right. They're nothing alike."

The two stared silently as the leaves rustled overhead.

Damon grinned. "I can enter anytime. You can't protect them."

"Leave," Stefan demanded.

Damon shrugged, bare skin still gleaming in the dim light. He licked up the blood from the back of his hand and smirked at me. "See you soon, Elena."

And he was gone.

I collapsed to my knees, staring off into the darkness. Then turned to the boy on the ground. He was ashen, his neck smeared with blood where the skin had been torn into. I didn't know what to do. "Stefan!"

Stefan knelt beside me, frowning. "He's dying."

"Help him. Please, Stefan!"

Staring down at Jeremy, the blood vessels in his eyes pulsing, Stefan eventually shoved down his sleeve and bit into his wrist. "I don't know if there's enough time," he warned as he held the open wound over Jeremy's mouth and squeezed his forearm. Blood trickled from his wrist and dropped between Jeremy's lips.

Transfixed, I waited, everything in me a bundle of wrought nerves. I looked for the slightest sign that Jeremy was healing. Nothing happened.

I was about to ask Stefan to try feeding him more when the side of his neck began to meld back together. It merged completely, smooth and unblemished, as if the wound hadn't happened at all.

Jeremy opened his eyes, wide and terrified and darting to and fro as he gasped awake. He met my stare, and then Stefan's small smile, and lifted a hand to his neck. "What?" he asked as he brought his hand before his eyes, staring at the blood staining his skin.

Stefan frowned. Meeting my eyes before looking down at Jeremy. As soon as Jeremy locked eyes, searching for answers, Stefan's pupils contracted. "You had too much to drink. You fell down and hit your head. You weren't attacked."

"I wasn't attacked," Jeremy repeated slowly.

Stefan blinked and Jeremy looked woozily around before holding a hand to his head. He grimaced at me. "Think I drank too much."

"I'll take you home," I said, soft and gentle as I took a hand. Stefan took the other, and together we helped him up.

As soon as Jeremy was standing on his own two feet, Stefan looked to me. "We should talk."

"Yeah."

Stefan glanced at Jeremy before gazing back at me. He lowered his voice as Jeremy wandered towards the trail. "Tonight. Once everyone else is asleep. I'll be waiting outside your window."

The idea should have terrified me, but Stefan had just saved Jeremy's life. I nodded. "Okay."

Stefan nodded back. "I'll make sure you get to your car."

Together we followed the lights back towards the pavilions. Jeremy would occasionally stretch his neck and rub at his head. It was quiet except for the distant music and the rustle of leaves.

Except the closer we got, the bigger commotion we heard.

When we stepped out into the open, several eyes turned to me. "Hey, Elena! This some kind of prank?" a boy I didn't recognize asked as we strode near him.

"What?"

"Elena!"

I turned to see Caroline hurrying across the grounds, a frown on her face. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything."

"What's going on?" Jeremy asked.

Caroline huffed, holding out her phone. "Elena's gone nuts. She's texting a bunch of crazy stuff at everybody." Caroline scowled. "It's not _funny_."

"Caroline, Elena doesn't have her phone," Stefan said.

Caroline's brows flew up. "Then who's doing it?"

"What do they say?" Stefan asked.

Caroline turned her phone back. "A bunch of stuff. Like, a dozen nine-one-ones. A whole wall of text that's just help me over and over. And another that says imposter. And thief."

Stefan held out a hand. Caroline handed her phone over. I leaned over his arm as he began to scroll through all the texts. There were dozens, just as Caroline said.

"Whose gotten them?"

"Like, everybody," she said, waving an arm.

"I haven't," he said.

"Everybody in her contacts? I don't know," Caroline returned.

A cold chill had my body hair standing on end as Jeremy pulled out his phone. "Me too. Must have happened while I was out."

I looked around to find the whole party staring at me, a confused murmur of voices sweeping through the gathered teens like a spreading virus. Bonnie was back at the bonfire and met my stare with the same unsettled look on her face. Our eyes met.

All the lights blew in a flurry of popping bulbs, and darkness swallowed us.


	7. Seven

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:**

**Chapter Seven**

The chaos lasted long enough for several people to fall or run into one another. Thankfully, Matt and Caroline managed to calm everyone down. Matt came up with the idea that a few people should go to their cars for flashlights. By the time they came back, their bobbing beams carving through the darkness, most of the group had gathered around the fire. Aside from a general unease, everyone had settled.

Party over, we walked back down the trail, those with the flashlights interspersed throughout to give enough light for everyone to see. It made for a crowded exit. Jeremy, after disappearing briefly, came back and waited with me in the SUV for traffic to clear. He didn't speak as we bounced down the gravel road. Dust kicked up by all the cars ahead of us floated over the road as if fog floated in front of the headlights. When we reached the highway, he just turned on the stereo and leaned back into his seat, bored.

I couldn't shake the memory of Damon attacking him. Of Jeremy on the ground, eyes slipping shut as he lost consciousness. Of blood spreading out over the dirt and between the blades grass, drowning fallen leaves and twigs.

And if it wasn't the attack at the forefront of my mind, it was the firming suspicion I was haunted.

I was thoroughly freaked out by the time we arrived back at the Gilbert house. Too many fears packed into my head. While Jeremy jumped out of the SUV, I took a moment, staring at the back of the garage. Someone had set up a long wooden table and a tool rack. Grayson Gilbert? I stared at the wrenches and the hammers and red plastic shelving as the car clicked and creaked as it settled and tried to do the same to my mind.

I had done what I was supposed to. I'd gone to the party and everything had still turned upside-down. Meeting Damon early must've thrown too big a rock into the waters of fate. The ripples were spilling over.

Vicki hadn't been attacked. What would that change? Blowing out a breath, I rubbed my forehead. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, I climbed out of the SUV.

The grind and rumble of the garage door lifting startled me. Thinking it was Elena, fear rooted me in place as I watched the door lift. Then a pair of headlights shone from outside, and I squinted as a car rolled into the spot next to the SUV.

"Elena!" Jenna wasted no time cutting the engine and hopping out the passenger side of a Mini Cooper.

At the sound of her voice, I loosed a relieved breath. "Hey Jenna."

"Are you alright?" she asked, worry speeding her words as she shut the car door and moved around the SUV.

My brows drew together. "Yeah. Fine." I paused to amend, "A little tired."

"Oh good," Jenna breathed. Her hand flew to her purse and pulled out her phone. "I got all these texts—"

"You're not the only one." At her questioning look, I said, "I meant to tell you, I lost my phone. Someone must've found it. They're sending out these weird messages to people in my contacts."

The tension lifted from Jenna. I wished my own worries could've been so easily assuaged. "I'll call the service tomorrow and get it shut off." She replaced her phone in her bag.

"Thanks, Jenna." I hit the garage door opener before exiting the side door, Jenna right behind me. "How was your day?"

That sparked a conversation that lasted through a light dinner of leftovers. When we were finished, I carried a plate of food up to Jeremy's room. I wanted to check on him under the guise of delivering dinner. He opened the door when I knocked, but he was on the phone. He ended up taking the plate with a nod and going right back to his conversation, shutting the door behind him.

I guessed that meant he was alright. Stefan's compulsion seemed to be holding.

Walking into Elena's room, I steeled myself for another exploding bulb or a rotting corpse as I flicked the light switch. The room lit up, sans phantom.

I started changing into Elena's pajamas, then remembered Stefan intended to come over. I put on a pair of sweatpants and a light cotton camisole instead. After washing off the makeup, I tied my hair up into a ponytail.

I doubted Jenna and Jeremy would be going to sleep anytime soon. Since I'd already finished up her homework, I got out Elena's laptop instead. I searched the internet for any information on hauntings.

Most of what I found had to do with popular culture's ideas of hauntings. Unfinished business. Cold spots. Poltergeists versus 'recorded' memories. Haunted places. Supposed sightings. Strange electromagnetic energy. There was endless amounts of information, but no way to know what was real and what was bull. Besides, I wasn't sure if what _might_ be going on even counted as a haunting. This was Elena's life.

I concentrated on possession instead. Things got even darker. Most of it revolved around demonic forces and evil spirits. Since I was pretty sure I wasn't a demon, I concentrated on the spirit aspect.

Turns out nearly every culture has some concept of possession. I guess in this universe, it was based on more than just a grain of truth. I tried to find information that lined up with what I was experiencing, but most of it centered around the possessee's experiences, how to ward off possession, or cast a spirit out.

The last of which sounded… kinda ominous. Not gonna lie.

I had no idea where my body was or if it was even here. What would happen if I were forced out? Maybe I'd go home.

Yeah. Sure. And I'd do it riding a frigging unicorn while eating a pint of zero calorie butter pecan ice-cream.

I was reading up on the pagan connection between Halloween and spirits when there was a light _tink_ on the window. Beyond it was Stefan, crouched on a branch and ducking his head to look in. Shutting the laptop, I stood up and hurried over. Elena's hair swept forward as I crawled onto the window seat and pulled the pane open. "Stefan."

His sights traced the window frame. "You have to invite me in."

I stared out. Stefan was a vampire. I should never, ever let him in. "I can't."

Stefan met my eyes and nodded. "Okay." He held out a hand.

I assured myself that Stefan was safe as I climbed onto the window seat. I had gone with Damon, who regularly suggested he'd kill me or someone I knew, plenty of times. Stefan wasn't like that. I put my hand into his, letting him help steady me as I stretched out the window.

The bough creaked and dipped as he moved further along to take hold of me. As soon as I was in his arms, he said, "Hold on," and jumped. He landed in a soft crouch on the roof. Setting me on my feet, he kept hold of my hand as we navigated up the slanted gable to the join where the roof met the chimney stack. He helped me sit before crouching next to me.

I had to hand it to Mystic Falls. Even it's 'suburbs' were beautiful. The neighborhood was mostly dark except for a scattering of little yellow boxes where the night owls nested inside. The trees were large shadows darker than the sky that shivered in the breeze. Wisps of clouds hid the moon and the stars, but the streetlights cast more than enough shine to see by.

We stared quietly at one another for several long seconds.

"How long have you known?" Stefan asked, voice low and soft.

How to answer that? In the months since I started streaming the show? The days since I'd gotten here? "Long enough."

His gaze slanted to the side. "I thought Damon would have wiped your memory. I suppose he wanted you to know what he was. What I was." His jaw clenched before relaxing.

I bent my knees higher and wrapped my arms around my legs. "I couldn't tell anyone."

Stefan nodded.

"I won't tell anyone about you, either."

Stefan frowned. "I'm not worried about that, Elena." Before I could figure out how to warn him to be more wary—possibly bring up the fact Elena's parents knew about vampires?—Stefan reached into his pocket. "I want you to have something." Carefully, he lifted out a certain necklace by its chain.

The locket spun between us, the soft yellow glow of a nearby streetlight winking off the engraved silver. "Stefan," I breathed, his name all but knocked out of my lungs by the relief I felt.

"It's filled with an herb called vervain that protects the mind. Wear this and vampires can't compel you."

"I think Damon tried this morning, but nothing happened."

He undid the clasp. "I slipped some into your drink the other night." My surprise must've been clear on my face, because he explained, "I knew he'd already compelled you once. I wanted to make sure he couldn't do it again." His small but sincere smile made an appearance. "But it's temporary. I've been trying to figure out a way to give you this that you'd accept it."

My answering smile was much larger. "Problem solved."

"One of them," he muttered. He held up the necklace, chain parted. "May I?"

"Definitely." I turned so that my back faced him. The necklace lowered, the locket winking from the streetlight as it passed before my eyes. Stefan's hands hovered over my shoulders before moving to the back of my neck. His knuckles whispered across my soft skin. His touch rewired my body so that each brush of skin echoed throughout every inch of me.

I'd never felt the chasm of space like I did as he moved back. I wanted to lean into him, ask him to lay his hands on me again. But I didn't. Instead, I lifted the now-secured locket up to my nose. Elena had been right. It did smell of roses. I twisted around. He watched me with lidded eyes dark from something other than bloodlust. "Thank you."

He gave a single, short nod. Our gazes held.

The streetlight flickered.

We both lifted our sights to it. Elena. I sucked down a breath, reminded myself this body wasn't mine to do with as I wanted.

"Do you have any idea what that's about?" Stefan asked quietly.

In for a penny. "I think I'm being haunted."

From the steepling of his brows, Stefan hadn't expected that.

"You don't believe in spirits?"

His smile took on a wry twist. "I'm a vampire, Elena. If I exist, I'm sure other things do, too." His expression turned thoughtful. "I've just never run into a ghost before. I'll make some calls. See if anyone knows anything about hauntings."

Some of the ever-present knotwork my stomach seemed twisted up into lately loosened a smidge. "Thank you so much, Stefan. If there's any way I can help—"

"Stay safe." Stefan's hand moved but stalled before it got very far. "That's all I want."

I thought of Damon's eyes and snarling mouth before he attacked Jeremy. "Your brother makes that a tall order."

Stefan was quiet. I shifted my feet, my socks catching on the abrasive texture of the roof tiles. "I think if he was going to hurt you, he wouldn't have attacked Jeremy."

"I don't know, Stefan. That hurts me, too."

Stefan bowed his head in acknowledgement. "I know. I'm not excusing what he did. But I don't think he'll attack you, Elena."

"Why?"

Stefan stared into the darkness. "It's complicated." Before I could ask him to try me, he went on, "When we were still human, Damon fell in love." Realizing that he was talking about Katherine, every thought quieted as I concentrated entirely on him. "You—look a lot like her." I nearly snorted. "I think you remind him of her."

And though I knew the answer, I thought it would be weird if I didn't ask. "And when were you human, Stefan?"

He peeked at me from the corner of his eye. "We were turned in eighteen sixty-four."

"Did you lie when you said you were from here?"

"No." Stefan looked out at the houses. "We were born and grew up in Mystic Falls."

"So you would have been around for the Civil War."

His lips lifted in a smile. "Mister Tanner would approve." I huffed. His smile widened before falling back to his usual line. "But, yes. I was too young to join. Not technically. They took boys younger than I was back then. Father wanted me to wait until I was eighteen."

"Damon?"

"Enlisted. He's never really spoken of it."

"Is it weird, how much the world's changed?"

Stefan's lips pursed. "I don't think on it much. I suppose it's the same for us as it is for humans. The changes are so incremental, you don't notice most of them. Not until you have a reason to stop and remember."

"I'd think going from horses and carriages to sports cars would be weird."

Stefan's lips slanted into a crooked grin. "More convenient. Less odor." He tilted his head. "The same can be said for most things."

"What's your favorite decade?"

Stefan blinked. "They've all had their good and bad moments."

I continued asking him things about the past. Did he remember this or that? What was the first movie he ever saw (a thirty-second clip of a horse race that had come around with a vaudeville act). How had this or that worked? What had they done without x, y, or z? I peppered him with all sorts of questions, and he sat up with me, patient and willing to answer.

He began asking me questions in return. Weirdly, his simpler questions about my past were hard to answer. I wanted to be truthful, I don't like to lie and I'm no good at it. But I wasn't ready to confess my fears—not until I knew more about what had happened to me and Elena. I bent the truth here and there, replaced my parents with Miranda and Grayson, my two best friends growing up with Bonnie and Caroline. He never seemed suspicious, so it must have worked.

By the time the sky began to lighten, I realized we'd talked for hours.

Stefan looked at the rising sun and frowned. "I've kept you up all night."

"I don't think I'd have slept." Without our conversation to distract me, memories of Damon's red eyes and gaping mouth, of Jeremy's glazed eyes rolling back in his head crowded everything else out of my mind. As if they'd been waiting for an opening. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing them away. They refused to go.

A soft touch on my shoulder pulled me back to Stefan. Eyes the same shade as the distant forest watched beneath the concerned furrow of his brows. Golden light shone off one side of his face, the rest laying in deeper shadow. I traced the haloed contours. "How do you stand the sun?"

He lifted a hand, a large lapis lazuli dominated his ring finger. "It's spelled to let us walk in the daylight."

"Spelled?" My lips twisted into a sardonic smile. "Like magic?"

He nodded.

"So witches are a thing?"

"Yes." He laid an arm over his own bent knee. His other leg lay stretched out. The sunlight crept along the tiles as the sun peeked over the rooftops. I kept my eyes on Stefan to avoid the glare. He kept his on me.

"Bonnie's grandmother says she's one."

"Sheila Bennett. I remember her." His head tilted. "If she says so, then it's true."

"Bonnie doesn't believe it."

He hummed. "She will. Power like that doesn't stay dormant forever."

Quiet settled between us as night grew distant and the sky blushed with morning's coming. As the darkness receded, I realized that since Stefan's arrival, I hadn't worried about a thing. It was as if his mere presence soothed all my fears and calmed my troubled mind. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so peaceful, which was amazing considering the circumstance. I could see myself becoming addicted to it. To him.

And then the screaming started.

Already entrapped by Stefan's gaze, we both tensed in alarm. I recognized the voice. "Jeremy!"

I stood up, trying to navigate the roof as quickly as I could, when Stefan's hand took mine and led me to Elena's window. "Here," he said, reaching out with his other hand. Without hesitating I took it. He lowered me to the still open window where I was able to get a toehold inside. I let go of one of his hands to grab the frame and pull myself in, while his other kept me steady.

As soon as I was inside, I hopped off the window seat and rushed to the adjoining bathroom. Jeremy's door was unlocked. He lay in bed, thrashing as if he were fighting an invisible opponent.

I rushed to his bedside. Sweat had beaded across his skin, his muscles gone rigid as he tried to move. "Jeremy!"

His eyes shot open, and he waved a panicked fist in my direction that narrowly missed my arm. I gasped. He focused on me, brows pinched together before he croaked, "Elena?"

"Hey," I sighed. "I heard you yelling."

He drew in a deep breath. "Bad dream," he muttered before wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. "Sorry."

"S'alright. I'm just glad you're okay." I would've stayed to make certain, or at least let him calm down more, but I was all too keenly aware there was a vampire still hanging outside my window. "If you're alright, I'll head back to bed."

"Yeah, yeah."

I was about to go when a knock sounded at the door. "Jeremy? What's wrong?"

"He had a nightmare, Jenna."

"Oh. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Jeremy groaned, flopping back down onto his pillow. "I want to go back to sleep."

I wondered if he'd be able to.

Without Jeremy's shouting, I was able to take in his room on my way out. The colors were muted and dark, fairly masculine. While things were clustered together on shelves, it was clean. He had a few posters on his walls—bands and some tribal-style art. His bookshelf held a mixture of robot action figures and books.

Stepping back into the bathroom, I gently shut the door behind me and hurried through to my room. I immediately looked for Stefan and found him on the tree outside, one hand perched on the windowsill. I hurried to the seat beneath. "Nightmare."

He nodded. Right. He would've heard. He looked troubled, though. "Without a regular diet of human blood," he whispered, "the powers of persuasion don't work as well."

I remembered Vicki's flashbacks on the show. "He remembers?"

"Subconsciously." Stefan frowned. "As long as he doesn't probe too deeply into what happened that night, the compulsion should hold."

I frowned. Jeremy had been tenacious. "He's stubborn. He gets an idea in his head, he doesn't let go."

Stefan's expression was grim. "Let's hope not."

I gripped the seat cushion. Another thing to toss on the pile of worries. A pile that was probably more accurately labeled a skyscraper by now.

I missed the peace I'd found earlier.

Stefan and I fell into each other's eyes. How long, I couldn't say. Too long, not long enough. Eventually, he broke the quiet. "I'll see what I can find out about hauntings. In the meantime, if something happens, call me."

"Do I have your number?"

His eyes widened in realization. "No. Do you have anything to write with?"

"Yeah." I stood and crossed to Elena's desk, grabbing a pen and a post-it note. I passed them both to Stefan.

Still balanced on the limb, even though it wasn't that large, Stefan steadied the post-it on his knee as he wrote. He handed them back. "The first one's my cell. The second is to the house. If I don't answer, my nephew Zach will. He knows the truth about us."

"Or Damon," I said softly.

His lips pressed into an unhappy line before he gave a reluctant nod. "Or Damon." His brow cocked. "If he feels like answering the phone." His tone implied this was unlikely.

I held the post-it and stared at Stefan. He seemed as reluctant to go as I was to see him leave. Eventually he looked aside. "I should let you get ready."

"You too."

He nodded and turned back. "See you at school."

When I blinked, he was gone.

"Show off." I looked down to the post-it. The writing was more then legible, it was beautiful. Perfectly spaced, with sharp corners and elegant curves. Realizing he'd learned to write over a hundred and sixty years before, I shook my head in wonder before sticking the post-it to Elena's desk, next to the cordless handset.

Weary as I was, I felt good. Refreshed. Surprising, considering the events of the night before. I went through my morning ablutions, but as I shuffled through Elena's closet trying to decide what to wear, I realized that each second was now bringing me closer to seeing Damon again.

This lowered my mood considerably.

A breakfast of sugary cereal and coffee probably didn't help my nerves any.

"How do I look?"

I glanced up from my spoon to find Jenna posing with hands on her hips. She had a cream-colored blouse on with black dress pants. "Professional."

She smiled. "That's what I was going for."

I sipped my coffee. "What's the occasion?"

She stepped over to the small oval mirror on the dining room wall, examining her hair as she answered, "Jeremy's parent teacher conference."

Ouch. I was about to go back to my cereal when she twisted and asked, "Hair up," she held it aloft over her head, "or down?" She let it flow back over her shoulders.

I shrugged. "It looks fine both ways."

Jenna turned back to the mirror. "Down."

"Gives you cover."

She arched a brow at me, but before she could say anything, Jeremy appeared in the dining room.

"Morning."

"Hey."

She followed on his heels as he headed for the coffee pot. "Any idea what I can expect to hear from your teachers?"

He paused. "Huh?"

"Parent teacher conference," I said nonchalantly before shoving another spoonful of cereal into my mouth. What can I say? I like the drama when it isn't mine.

Jeremy shrugged. "Don't know."

"Don't know?" Jenna's brows flew up. "What's that mean?"

"Means I don't know, Jenna." Jeremy filled up his cup and maneuvered around her for the seat next to mine.

"So I'm not going to hear singing praises?" she clarified, looking even more anxious than before.

Jeremy paused, cup halfway to his mouth. He glanced up beneath thick lashes. "Um." He looked back down. "Don't know."

"Liar," I muttered—and ignored the glare he shot me.

Jeremy turned to Jenna. "Elena's dating someone older."

I snorted, nearly blasting my spoonful of milk and flakes everywhere. Kid, you have no idea. And we weren't really dating. He was just coercing me into doing whatever he wanted.

I was not going to say that, though.

"His name's Damon," I told Jenna, who now looked like she'd been told to solve a rubrics cube blindfolded or she'd fail at life. "He's only twenty-five."

"Twenty-five," Jenna repeated doubtfully.

"Good thing you're seventeen. That's, like, a year away from jailbait," Jeremy said with a smirk.

"Maybe I should tell Vicki Donovan that," I sniped back.

Jenna's brow furrowed. The cube now had ten extra colors tacked on. "Matt's older sister?"

"Mhmm," I hummed before taking a sip of my coffee.

"Whatever," Jeremy declared before sliding off his seat and ambling back towards the stairs.

Jenna watched him leave, resignation in the slump of her shoulders. Her sights fell to me. "Twenty-five, Elena?"

"He's very immature for his age," I assured her.

She frowned.

I finished my coffee and carried the dishes to the sink. Jenna spun about, looking as if she were searching for something to say. I turned on the water and added, "Don't worry about it. I don't think it's going to work out."

She blinked. "Okay."

Leaving Jenna looking as if she were preparing for a dismal day, I thought about taking off in the SUV before Damon had a chance to show up. Then I realized that would probably make things worse. Resigned, I carried my bag out onto the front step and settled in to wait.

But Damon never showed up.

I gave up waiting with ten minutes to spare and raced off for the SUV instead. I was still late to school. I gave a tight smile to Bonnie, but she quickly stared back down at her notes. Her attention stayed there throughout the rest of class.

She hurried out of the room just as the bell rang and was a fair way down the hall by the time I made it out the door.

Frowning, I turned instead for my next hour. As I walked the hallway, it seemed every eye followed me. I'd spent so much of the walk with my head down, I noticed the metallic flecks in the floor tiles by the time I reached English. Stefan was in the back again and Caroline had the seat next to him, leaving the one in front clear. He smiled as I sat down to claim it, and I smiled back.

Caroline leaned over her desk. "Didn't see your boyfriend this morning, Elena."

Stomping down the urge to say he wasn't my boyfriend, I frowned. "Neither did I. He never showed."

Stefan grimaced. "He's… occupied."

"Occupied?" I wondered.

Stefan shook his head. Apparently, The Great Gatsby became indescribably interesting at that point, because he didn't look up from its pages again.

"I thought you two didn't talk," Caroline prodded.

Stefan flipped a page. "Didn't need to."

The class began before Caroline could probe further. Still, throughout the discussion, I wondered what he'd meant. Occupied. If it were something bad, surely Stefan would've come off as grimmer. Instead, it was like he wanted to avoid the subject.

As we began packing up a few minutes before the bell, I turned back to Stefan. "Is he causing trouble?"

Stefan's brow ticked up. "Damon?" At my nod, Stefan paused. "Always." At my narrowed eyed look, he lifted his bag and stood.

I hurried to follow, but Caroline was right there, sticking to Stefan's side like a stubborn barnacle. Annoyed, I huffed out a breath that just made more of my hair hit my face. Before I could find a covert way to ask if he were feeding on innocent bystanders, I had to separate to head off to Biology.

I was still wondering what in the world Stefan had meant when I spotted Tyler coming from the opposite direction. He pointed a finger gun at me, saying, "Nine-one-one, what's the emergency?" while his letter-jacketed buddy beside him laughed.

Ugh. "Funny, Tyler."

He smirked before striding into class.

I sucked down a slow, deep breath to fortify myself for fifty minutes of Lockwood 'humor.' Though there probably isn't enough air in the world.

By the time I had History, I was pretty much Done. The stares hadn't abated. The whispers were turning to murmurs. I'd studied to be prepared for discussion but was too tired to put it to good use. I trudged into History, took one look at Tanner's punchable face, and almost turned and walked out. Instead, I slid into the seat in front of Bonnie. "I am having the worst day," I said before my forehead hit the desk.

Bonnie nodded, but otherwise didn't look my way. She was leafing through the textbook. Figuring she hadn't done the reading, I left her to it.

Stefan arrived and got the desk next to mine.

I turned to him. "So what's occupied mean?"

He sighed. "Don't worry about it, Elena.""

I pursed my lips. "Well, is he coming over later?"

Stefan snorted. "I highly doubt it."

My brows flew up, and I was about to prod for more answers when—

"We're not interrupting you, are we Mister Salvatore? Miss Gilbert?"

UGH. I turned forward, forcing myself to look up into Tanner's stupid, smug face, and shook my head.

"No sir," Stefan politely replied.

The rest of history I had to chew on my curiosity. Stefan obviously didn't want to go into details, and it was driving me mad. What do you do the day after you almost kill the brother of the girl you're stalking? I couldn't stop wondering.

And as if he knew I'd been stewing all class, Stefan took off for lunch. Probably to hunt. It left me with a tableful of awkwardness, though. Bonnie was still quiet; she must've had other stuff on her mind. Maybe to do with her Grams. Or class.

Caroline reminded me about helping out with the flyers for the festival. "Right after school," she made sure to add, pointedly. She settled into her seat and tacked on a, "At the Grill."

"Right," I said, holding back a yawn.

The rest of the table wanted to know about my missing phone and Damon. Two topics I didn't feel like getting into. Luckily, Caroline took pity on me, and deftly redirected the conversation to the first practice that was coming up soon.

That I had to go to. My mood plummeted even further at the reminder.

I grudgingly attended the rest of my classes. By the time the last bell rang, and I was back at my car, I was ready to just take off and never look back. Instead I got in and drove to the Grill.

I arrived before Caroline. Not hungry, I stuck to just ordering an orange juice as I waited at one of the outside tables. Caroline turned up not long after, parking next to me. Emerging, she strode to the trunk and came back with two boxes balanced in her hands.

"We have to fold them." She told me as she set one box beside me and the other between herself and an empty seat.

I pulled the lid off the nearest and blanched. "All of them?"

Caroline shot me a look that screamed, 'duh.' "Yes, Elena. All of them."

There had to be thousands in the box. It was packed with glossy paper. Thicker than regular paper, but not by that much. I was exhausted but sucked it up as I started to pull out a stack.

Caroline stopped me. "One at a time. Otherwise a breeze might blow them away."

Right. I plucked one free and watched carefully as Caroline folded the first. It wasn't complicated, just tedious.

"You know you didn't have to lie about being interested in Damon," Caroline said as I started in on the first.

I paused and looked up. "I wasn't lying." I pursed my lips. "He was a genuine ass the first time we met." Understatement.

"But he got better?"

No. "Yes." I tried lining up the edges evenly, but I sucked at this sort of thing. And I was pretty sure Caroline was a perfectionist. Fighting the urge to grind my teeth, I tried to line them up again. "He can be charming when he wants to be." And the crease turned out crooked. Huffing a breath, I made the next fold anyway. Whatever. She could deal.

Before Caroline could ask anything else, Bonnie pulled up. After exiting the car, she greeted us with a quiet hello. She took the seat next to Caroline and immediately set to work.

Her folds looked perfect. I decided she was cheating. Using instinctive magic or something.

"So how is he?" Caroline asked.

"Damon?" At Caroline's nod, I shook my head. "Don't know. I already told you, I didn't see him this morning."

"No, Elena. I mean the sex."

I was really glad I wasn't drinking my orange juice at that moment, because I was pretty sure that would've been a spit take. "No idea. We _just_ started dating, Caroline."

"Uh, who cares? Have you _seen_ him?"

"…Yes?"

"Jump him, already!" Caroline slapped another flyer down. "I need deets."

"You need them? What, for a vicarious thrill?" My nose crinkled. Ew.

"Yes!" she said, half-laughing. "It's not like Bonnie or I are getting any."

Bonnie shot an unamused glance at Caroline out the corner of her eyes.

"Right. Okay. Sure. I'll sleep with a guy I just started seeing for your benefit."

"Damn right you will. Look, Elena. It's not complicated. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy." Caroline mashed her hands together. "Sex."

And drinking her blood, after threatening everyone she knows. Yeah, no. "It's complicated."

"Bonnie, help me out here," Caroline entreated.

Bonnie focused on the flyers as if they held the secret of immortality. "I'm with Elena."

Caroline scoffed. "Traitors." Caroline eyed me, suspicion all over her face. "So what's with Damon being occupied?"

"No idea."

"You can't tell me you aren't curious."

Well, no. No I couldn't. "You've got me there."

Caroline waited several minutes for more, but when she didn't get it, shook her head. The conversation turned to her music choices for the new routine she was planning. Bonnie was quiet the whole time. I was fighting to stay awake.

By the time I was done, I hated the comet. I hated the comet festival. I hated folding paper.

I stared at Caroline with bleary, probably red, eyes. "Can I go now?" I didn't whine. I was too mature for that. I _entreated_ in a higher pitch than normal. That's all.

"Yes." Caroline gathered up the last of the folded flyers. "Remember that tomorrow we have to pass them out before the festival."

"Of course we do," I sighed.

I paid for my drinks and bade them both goodbye. Then, to add to my irritation, I hit every red light on the way back to Elena's. Irrationally, I started blaming her for it.

By the time I finally made it back to the Gilbert House, I was ready to collapse face-first into Elena's bed and take a very long nap before confronting today's homework. So ready I almost didn't notice the silver car parked in the driveway until I passed right next to it. Pulling into the garage, I figured Jenna must have company.

Please, don't let it be Logan Fell.

Walking into the kitchen, I gave a cautious glance around for any current news anchors pre-vampirism. Instead, I caught sight of Jenna sitting at the dining room table, irritation in every tensed line in her face and body.

She turned her head towards me as the door shut. "Elena. Guess who's here?"

"Can't begin to," I sighed, dropping my bag near the island.

"Hello, Elena."

My mouth dropped into a little o as John Gilbert appeared in the archway.


	8. Eight

**The More Things Change  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** Thank you all once again for your comments, follows, and favorites. Knowing there are people out there enjoying the story who want to read more helps me push past the rough spots.

**Chapter Eight**

"Uncle John," I stuttered.

John strode beyond the arch. "Good to see you."

"Awesome," Jenna muttered. From her pinched expression, her disgust couldn't have been clearer if she'd advertised it on a billboard.

John dismissed Jenna with a glance before finishing his stroll to the island. Stopping beside me, he met my stare and smiled.

My own tight-lipped smile wobbled. "What are you doing here?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Jenna added.

John's attention stayed with me. "I got your text. It concerned me."

"Oh." My hand fell onto the counter with a little thump. "I lost my phone a few days ago. Someone must've found it. They've been texting weird stuff to everyone." I gestured to him with my other hand. "I should've called. I didn't realize you'd gotten them too."

John's elbow settled beside me. "Huh." His stare dug into mine, as if he wanted to burrow behind my eyes and into my head. "You know who took it?"

I rolled my shoulders. "No idea."

"Where'd you lose it?" he asked.

I thought about lying, but the way his eyes kept so steady as they refused to leave mine, even to blink—"The woods," I confessed. "By King."

"The woods?" The sour notes were gone from Jenna's voice, replaced by concern. "What were you doing in the woods?"

"Shortcut." My fingers curled against the countertop. My nails pressed against the marble until the pressure pinched the back of my fingertips. "I'd planned on visiting the cemetery. See mom and dad. But I changed my mind."

"The woods are dangerous, Elena," John said.

"Especially now, with all the attacks," Jenna added.

I nodded, swallowing. I brushed my hair back behind my ears. "I know. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"I should hope not," John said, frowning. "Still. It's a strange thing to text."

"Tell me about it. You should hear the heckling I've gotten at school over it."

His unblinking stare swept over my face again before he straightened up. "Well, I've got some other business to take care of in town. It may take me a few days."

"Fantastic," Jenna muttered.

John sent her another disinterested glance. "Isn't it?" He turned back to me as Jenna glared. "I'll be around to help out with—" he took in the kitchen with a sweeping gaze, "anything."

"Sounds good."

Jenna glare swung to me, accusations of betrayal in the narrowing of her eyes.

I lifted my bag. "I'd like to catch up, but I've got homework."

"Don't let me keep you," John replied. "We'll have time to talk later."

I forced my cheeks to pull the corners of my mouth higher. "Great." Hiking the strap over my shoulder, I walked out as calmly as I could. I kept that calm pace all the way up the stairs and into Elena's room.

Swinging the bag onto the bed, I lunged for the phone. Stefan's bright yellow post-it easy to pick out among the rest of the clutter. I was about to dial when a swore I heard a click over the dial tone. I paused, staring at the handset, paranoia whispering all kinds of possibilities into my ear. I let my hand drift back to the power base, standing the cordless inside.

This was far, far too soon for 'Uncle' John to appear. Did he already know the Salvatore brothers were back? They had both been in the area since the death of Elena's parents. Maybe word had reached him. Or Isobel.

Or Katherine.

But before they'd waited for the tomb to be open. Was it only John who'd come back, or had he told Isobel? Did Katherine know? Would she care?

Things were moving so far afield, I had almost no idea what was going on anymore.

Sleep wasn't going to be an option now. Too worried John might be listening to the phones, I decided to do what I'd said, and start on Elena's homework.

It managed to occupy my time for a few hours. Long enough that I guessed it'd be safe to leave and deliver a warning in person.

As it turned out, the Boarding House had an online listing, along with a map. I printed the latter off, stuffed it in my pocket, and headed downstairs. I left a note saying I'd gone to see Caroline to help with festival preparations, figuring she'd be a safe enough alibi. Grabbing the keys from the holder hanging on the wall next to the door, I hurried out to the garage.

The Salvatore Boarding house was about ten minutes from Elena's, along the same route I'd taken to get to the falls. Which meant I'd had to cross Wickery Bridge. I wondered what Elena would have thought each time she went to see Stefan. Did she remember going over? Hitting the water? Waking up without parents? Or did she manage to put it from her mind?

Somehow, I doubted the latter.

A few minutes past the bridge, there was a small turn off that lead down a private drive. Like so many places in Mystic Falls, the narrow lane was surrounded by trees. Their heavy, arching branches formed a tunnel of leaves above the winding little road. Sun dappled light danced along the dashboard as I drove beneath them. Paved concrete crackled beneath the tires.

Further ahead stood the red brick manor that was the Salvatore Boarding House. Staring at the timber-framed façade, another rush of déjà vu hit me. I marveled at the size of the building. Two wings opened outwards at slight angles from its center, as if the house were extending its arms. I followed the curving driveway to park off to the side near the front door, a few feet short of the massive overhang, and got out.

My heeled boots clacked against the drive. Gaze sweeping across the well-kept grounds, I wondered if Zach was the one out mowing the yard and trimming the shrubs or if he hired someone to do it. Did he get a stipend for upkeep? Did he have a job? He hadn't stuck around on the show long enough to learn very much about him.

After Zach's death, the brothers must've hired someone to do it. Or compelled. I couldn't picture Damon on a mower or holding a set of trimmers. Not unless it was to skewer someone.

As I neared the heavily shadowed porch, the pulse of a heavy bass beat pulsed through the walls and a large window a few feet away. Wondering which of the brothers had the stereo on blast, I worried they might not hear me knock. Approaching an old-fashioned wooden door, I looked around for the doorbell before noticing a length of red rope attached to a literal bell.

Reaching up, I took hold of the braided cord and gave a few tugs. The bell chimed sweetly but, as I'd worried, wasn't much of match for the thumping bass.

I stood, uncertain if I should ring it again or maybe walk up to the window and try to get their attention, when the door swung in.

"Elena?" Stefan asked, surprise lending an almost boyish openness to his face.

"Stefan. Hi." Now that I was here, I wondered if I wasn't overreacting to John's appearance. I reached up and swept my fingers through my hair, meaning to comb it out. It ended up falling forward and covering up half of my face instead.

Stefan opened the door further. Beyond him, the wail of an electric guitar and clash of drums joined the throb of the bass. Stepping onto the threshold, Stefan's face had fallen back into his usual somber mien. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. Well, maybe." I wished I'd thought to bring a purse. I ran my hand over my hair again, trying to brush it back. "Probably."

Amusement tilted his mouth into that slight smile I adored. Sadly, it slipped away almost as soon as it had appeared. "Now's not a very good time."

"I'm sorry." A tingle that started at the base of my neck quickly spread up and across my face. "I shouldn't have bothered you—"

"You're never a bother, Elena," he was swift to say. His hand tightened on the edge of the door before he stepped back, pulling it with him. "Would you like to come in?"

It wasn't lost on me that he was inviting me inside his home when I had refused to do the same for him. "Thank you," I said softly, quickstepping over the threshold.

It should have felt cavernous. The ceiling stood four times as tall as me. And yet, between the dark wooden paneling, the dim lighting, the paintings, rugs, cabinets filled with antiques, tables and chairs—it felt filled. No matter where my gaze roamed, there was something to look at. From the side table and mirror pressed next to the door, to the richly patterned rug at my feet that ran the entire length of the hall, to the oil paintings adorning the walls.

The music I'd heard from outside pulsing behind a closed door a few feet to the left from the entrance, where I guessed the main sitting room from the series was. "What's that?" I asked.

Stefan's eyes flicked upwards as he folded his arms across his chest. "Nothing important."

Okay. Before I could say anything more, someone came striding out of another open doorway off to the right side of the hall. I might have thought it was Damon but for the dark blonde hair and larger frame. "How much longer is—"

Zach, Stefan and Damon's descendant, stopped at the sight of me and frowned. "Another?"

"No, Zach," Stefan was quick to correct, arms falling to his side. "This is Elena Gilbert."

The irritation in Zach's expression transformed to curiosity. "Miss Gilbert."

"Elena," I corrected. Answering to that was weird enough, but I was starting to get used to it. The same couldn't be said for Gilbert.

"You said something might be wrong?" Stefan prompted.

Remembering my reason for visiting, I grimaced. "I came to warn you. Uncle John's in town."

Weariness settled over Zach's features. "Johnathan Gilbert?"

I nodded. "And he knows, Stefan. About vampires."

"This isn't good." Zach turned to Stefan. "If he starts suspecting—"

"I know," Stefan frowned.

I took a step forward, close enough I could've reached out and touched Stefan. "You've got to convince Damon to leave or lay low."

"I've got to do what now?"

Damon's voice lured my sights to the previously shut door. To the pale but sculpted chest and rock-hard stomach whose muscles pointed below a pair of low-slung jeans clinging to his hipbones. And the two hands pressed to either side belonging to a blonde and brunette leaning against him. The two girls were in nothing but underwear, bite marks on full display. Damon's arms were slung over each of their shoulders, a half-empty bottle of dark amber alcohol in one hand.

The contents of my stomach turned to lead. "What's—who're they?"

Damon glanced between his hanger-oners. "Oh, how rude of me. This is Ama—no. Um, Emil—wait. Amelia?" The blonde looked up and made an affirmative noise while her hand slid lower. "And _this_," his head turned to the side other side, where the long haired brunette clung, a slow smile spreading over his face, "is Natalie."

Natalie giggled.

"Girls, this is Elena," Damon said, pointing with his bottle. "Elena, these are the girls." Damon's eyes rounded as he added in a staged whisper, "Kappa Theta Phi."

I stared. Stefan's head dipped down as his lips pinched together until they looked like one pale line. Zach's frown carved deep grooves into his face.

I shook my head and turned back to Stefan. "Whatever." His green eyes lifted to meet mine, surprised. "If John suspects anything—"

He glanced at Damon before focusing on us. "He won't," Stefan assured.

"What? No judgy, 'Oh Damon, you can't feed off sorority girls! It's not right!'?" Damon interjected as he waved his bottle at me. Well, my general vicinity. His aim didn't seem to be at its best.

I ignored him. "The Gilberts have journals that talk about vampires and their history in this town. You two might be in it."

"Not even a, 'Don't hurt them, Damon, please!'?" He huffed.

The three of us traded glances. "You think he suspects?"

"I think you should treat him as if he does," I said, careful to keep my eyes from looking away from Stefan's. "Better safe than sorry."

"Great!" Damon pronounced with morbid cheer. "Let's kill him!"

I whirled around and marched up to him. Eyes brightening, Damon's smirk flashed. "You're not killing my Uncle, Damon! Or my Brother. Or my Aunt. Or any of my friends!"

"Hmm. I don't know, Elena. If he's a threat—"

"I don't care. I'll never speak to you again." I threatened.

Damon stared down at me. "What do I care."

I knew better than to fall into that trap again. Once burned and all that. I turned my back on him and returned to a high-browed Stefan. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Stefan escorted me to the door. Unable to help myself, at the first step past the threshold, I turned a bit to say, "Occupied?"

Stefan's interest fell on a tall potted shrub placed off to the side. "Drive safe." The door slipped shut.

The music resumed, loud enough to rattle the windows.

A foul mood settled over me as I left the Salvatore Boarding House. Damon partying it up after almost killing Jeremy—what a dick. I mean, I knew he was a real bastard during the early part of the first season, but it seemed like he didn't care at all. At least he'd regretted breaking Jeremy's neck.

And all the stupid games he'd played with me since chasing me into that store. Then, first chance he gets, he picks up a couple of sorority girls for feeding and who knew what else.

It wasn't my problem. In fact, maybe he'd back off. Start stalking Natalie and leave me alone.

I fumed, and the slow churning anger in my belly kept me wide awake all the way to Elena's. But after parking and navigating the sidewalk to the kitchen door, it was as if I had weights around my limbs and eyelids. Exhaustion had caught up, and I thought I might finally fall asleep.

Unfortunately, John's greeting of, "Elena," from a seat at the dining room table let me know I wasn't about to get away that easily.

He had a stack of papers in front of him, but he set them aside as I walked in the door. "Ready for the festival tomorrow?"

Remembering my excuse, I nodded. "Ready as we'll ever be."

"Good." John settled back in his chair. "I'm glad you're taking such an active role in the community."

"Thank you." I glanced towards the archway and the staircase that lay beyond.

"As a founding family, it's important for the Gilberts to remain invested in Mystic Falls," John went on.

I wondered why he didn't live here, then. Why he'd left the task of caring for Elena and Jeremy all up to Jenna. But I kept my mouth shut and smiled.

John returned it with a thinner, briefer version. "I was thinking about the time Miranda signed everyone up for the Founder's Day Bar-B-Que some years back. You were ten? Maybe eleven. And you were so eager to help at the grill. Your parents wanted you manning the concession table, pouring lemonade and coke. But you were stubborn." He flashed a grin. "Grayson ended up beside you the whole day, flipping burgers and turning hotdogs."

I nodded, though I had no clue what he was talking about. "Yeah. Dad was pretty great."

John turned serious. "Yes, he was." He waved at the chair beside him. "Then there was that summer vacation at the lake house when you were six."

Taking the hint, I sat down.

He reminisced for an hour. The time we all did this or that. When I'd done this or that. It surprised me how much John had to say about the past with his brother's family. I suppose it shouldn't have, but on the show, the only thing he'd said in relation to the family alluded to their history of vampire hunting. He talked a lot about Elena growing up. Knowing that John was her biological father, it was nice to learn he'd kept an eye on her.

Having trouble keeping my eyes open, I yawned. John frowned. "I'm keeping you up."

"I didn't sleep well last night."

He turned back to the table in his seat. "I'll let you catch up, then." He said, sliding the stack of papers towards him. "Goodnight, Elena."

"Night Uncle John."

He went back to his paperwork as I stood up and pushed in the chair.

Finally back in Elena's bedroom, I can't say I was too surprised when the light failed to turn on. "Elena," I sighed. "Stefan's looking into it. Trust me, I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here. So, please. Ease up?"

The light stayed off.

Frowning, I crept towards the bathroom by the light that leaked through the curtains. I had to feel for the doorknob.

The light switch didn't work in there, either.

Irritated, I turned on the shower, waiting to make sure I had the hot water on. I undressed and walked over to the hamper, making sure the clothes didn't end up on the floor. Taking a moment to lock the door leading to Jeremy's room, I stepped into the shower.

The spray abruptly turned ice cold.

Swearing, I stepped back, hitting the wall. Catching a narrow shelf molded into the shower stall saved me from slipping down onto my rear—or worse. "Dammit, Elena!"

Reaching through the spray, I endured streams of freezing water cascading down my skin to find the valve. I wrenched it the opposite way. The cold receded into warmer water once again, relaxing my skin. I breathed a sigh of relief and reached for the shampoo, determined to finish before Elena turned the cold water back on.

I'd gotten the conditioner worked throughout my hair when the spray turned scalding.

Shouting, I about tore down the shower curtain to get out.

Naked and dripping water all over the floor, I stared where the water splashed against the shower curtain and wall. Listening to the steady patter left me all too aware of the darkness surrounding me. Adrenalin had flooded my veins, set my heart to pounding. Swallowing, I crept to the front of the shower, carefully reaching in. A wall of steam hit my face as the curtain opened. I felt for the valve and shut the water off.

"The hell, Elena?" I asked the dark. "You want to burn yourself?"

There was no answer.

I grabbed a towel and hurried back into the bedroom. Leery of the unfamiliar surroundings, I padded to the bed and climbed into the middle. The room's furnishings were indistinct, edges that surrounded shades of darkness. My imagination conjured shapes within. Forms of misshapen bodies and faces. Eyes that watched me.

Or maybe it wasn't my imagination. A thought that terrified me and kept me up well into the night despite my exhaustion.

Then the nightmares came.

* * *

My fears didn't slip away with morning's light. I woke with terror's claws ripping through my thoughts. Same as every morning since waking up in this messed up world. Frustratingly, I couldn't remember what put it there. My dreams didn't fade but disappeared, quick as a vampire.

I did my best to brush aside the lingering fear, readying myself for the day—sans shower. Descending the stairs, I envisioned a quick breakfast. I hoped to talk to Stefan about last night. See if he'd discovered anything new about spirits and hauntings before school.

Those tentative plans flew out the window as soon as I entered the dining room.

The table was laden with breakfast food. There were fluffy brown pancakes and golden waffles. A plate of crisped bacon beside a spread of steaming sausages. Eggs sunny side up and scrambled. Two plates of toast. Jars of jam and a bear full of honey. A pot of coffee beside a pitcher of orange juice.

Aunt Jenna sat in the middle, eating with the most grudging expression I'd ever seen in front of a spread of food. The reason why welcomed me while carrying a skillet of sizzling hash browns. "Morning Elena," John greeted.

I gazed over the cornucopia of food. "What's all this?"

"Got up early. Felt like doing a little cooking."

A little? "This is enough to feed ten people, Uncle John."

Leaning over the table, he used a spatula to ladle the hash browns onto an empty plate. "We can warm the rest of it up throughout the day. Have some tomorrow." The spatula clattered against the edge of the pan as he straightened up. "It'll get used up." He nodded at the spread before striding back into the kitchen. "Dig in. I made some of everyone's favorites."

Not one to look a gift breakfast in the mouth, I slid into the seat. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started loading my plate. I was almost halfway through by the time Jeremy made his way down. It was then that conversation between him and John filled the room with sounds other than the clinking of silverware.

I was finishing up some toast when I heard a telltale rumble. It shouldn't have surprised me that, after warning him to stay away from John, Damon's camaro came purring up the driveway. It did, but it shouldn't have.

Knocking on the door, though, was brazen even for him.

Jenna's chair scraped across the hardwood as she moved to stand. Mine skidded and clattered as I jumped up. "I'll get it!"

Everyone stared. I fought to right my chair and shove it back in place before scurrying off.

I didn't quite sprint to the door, but it was a near thing. I could've punched the smirking face I found on the other side if I thought it'd do any good. "Damon," I hissed, "the hell are you doing?"

"Morning to you too, Elena," he declared as he entered unimpeded.

Before I could say anything more, his arm slipped around my waist. Pulled forward, Damon's swooped down, pressing his lips to mine.

It wasn't a full kiss, only a light brush, barely enough to feel the soft skin of his lips. But by the way my body lit up, it might as well have been a lusty french kiss. The last of the lingering fears from that morning were swept away by the way he pulled every bit of my attention and focused it into that moment, on him. The coolness of the leather jacket he wore, its zipper pressing into my chest where he pressed against me. The strength in the hand curled around my waist. The warm breath caressing my face.

An impish grin curled against my mouth as he took my hand, fingers intertwining between mine. Still reeling from the sensations he'd inflicted upon me, we moved. It was all too sudden for me to stop, like slipping on a patch of ice.

In the archway, hands together, Damon drew me beside him as the rest of the Gilberts observed our appearance. Jenna's forehead crinkled in concern. John set down his fork and knife before picking up his napkin and dabbing the corners of his mouth. Jeremy studied Damon like an old polaroid.

Damon's smile was a thousand watts of charming. "Elena," he said, swinging my hand closer to him. "Introduce me."

I'd rather present a rabid raccoon straight from the trash as the new family pet. It'd be safer. "This is Damon." His hand squeezed mine, stopping right on the edge of uncomfortable. "My boyfriend."

"Little old, isn't he?" John questioned.

Given the fact he knew exactly who Damon was, he wasn't kidding.

Damon cranked up the winning smile. "I'm twenty-five." John set a hand on the table, eyes never moving off Damon. "And Elena is more mature than I am most of the time."

"Hardly comforting," John replied flatly.

A nervous laugh tumbled from Damon. I didn't believe it for a moment. "No, I suppose not." He ran his free hand through his hair. "That's why I wanted to meet you all. Let everyone get to know me."

"Have we already met?" Jeremy asked, still staring at Damon through narrowed eyes.

I tensed. Damon's lips pursed as if he were thinking about it. "I might've run into you before."

I dug my nails into his hand.

John rose out of his chair and walked around the table, stopping in front of Damon. "I appreciate you taking the time to introduce yourself to the family, Damon."

"Thank you, sir." I worked hard not to gape at the earnestness beaming from Damon. "I just wanted you all to know I have nothing but the best intentions for Elena."

_Liar!_

"That's good to hear," John replied, extending a hand.

Smiling and releasing my hand, Damon took John's. The two shook.

I fought hard not to gape too openly. "I should… get my bag."

I took the opportunity to escape. Voices emanating from the dining room chased me all the way up the stairs. I snatched my bag up from its spot next to the desk, wondering what the hell Damon's latest game was. Irritation smothered any residual sparks from Damon's kiss.

By the time I was tromping back downstairs, my expression must've shown my annoyance. Damon bid everyone goodbye and, practically immortal being that he was, took my hand despite my scowl and led me out the door.

"Try to look a little happy to be with me," he said out the corner of his mouth.

My scowl deepened. "I told you to stay away from John."

"If you have a better way of avoiding suspicion then being out in the daylight, dating his niece, I'm all ears." Damon shot back.

But John knew about Damon and Stefan. Knew their history. Their weaknesses. I didn't know how to tell Damon this without revealing the truth. The only reason he wouldn't attack me was my resemblance to Katherine. What would he think if he knew that I wasn't really the girl he saw? That I was plain, so much so I was easily overlooked. I couldn't compare to an Amelia or a Natalie, let alone an Elena.

I'd have my throat ripped into right away.

I wish I could say I was braver than that. Selfless enough to put others before my own fears. But I did the cowardly thing and kept quiet.

The ride to school was silent except for the music pumping through the speakers. Damon looked thoughtful the whole way but didn't share any of those musings with me. As he pulled up next to the sidewalk leading from the parking lot to the school, I made sure to escape the car before he had a chance to do anything… _weird_.

I didn't see Bonnie or Stefan. After sharing a brief hello with Caroline, I ended up walking to my locker and class alone. It wasn't until a minute before the bell rang that Bonnie wandered into class. Her smile was brief before she was focused back on her notebook.

Once again, Bonnie took off before I was done gathering up my book and notes. Frowning after her retreating back as she hurried off down the opposite hall, I wondered if she was avoiding me.

The thought troubled me all the way to my locker, where I found Stefan. He smiled as soon as our eyes met. "Hey."

"Hi." I concentrated on the cool metal dial of the lock so that his face wouldn't distract me. It would be embarrassing to forget my combination after having admitted I didn't know my own phone number.

"I called some of my," he paused, "older friends."

Locker door creaking open, I glanced at him and waited.

He frowned. "The ones who've gotten back to me don't know anything beyond rumors. No one's dealt with any spirits directly. I'm waiting to hear from a couple others, but," he shrugged.

My hopes fell. "Oh."

He ducked until he caught my eyes again. "Hey. We'll figure this out. My friends may not know anything, but someone does. I'll keep digging."

I nodded and summoned a smile.

But I couldn't forget the sudden beat of scalding hot water the night before.

The thought ironically haunted me throughout the rest of the school day. Between Bonnie's sudden silence and hurry to get away from me, worries about Elena's increasingly unfriendly activity, Uncle John's appearance, Damon's weird scheme, and Stefan's failure to learn anything—my day was already looking crappy.

Catching sight of the camaro and its leather-clad occupant waiting for me didn't help my mood.

"How was school?" he asked, lifting his hand in a wave before shifting the car into gear.

Looking over, I wasn't surprised to see Stefan standing near the door, watching us drive away with his brows pressed low over the bridge of his nose. If the vampire beside me wasn't so temperamental and prone to attacking innocent bystanders, I'd tell him to grow up. Act his age, whether apparent or actual.

"Just great, Damon." I rubbed at my eyes. Despite having gotten some sleep, I was still tired. Classes hadn't exactly imbued me with much in the way of pep, either. "I've got to meet Caroline and Bonnie at the park."

"What for?"

Did he care, or was he bored enough to ask? "I'm helping pass out programs for tonight's festival."

"Ah. Night of the Comet." Damon's lips twisted into that devilish grin.

That's right. He needed the comet to open the tomb, along with Emily's amulet. He must already be planning on attending the Founder's party.

He'd also attacked Vicki tonight in the show. My stomach twisted at the memory of her tearful cries as Damon taunted her, tipping her back and forth on the ledge of the Grill's roof. "You're not coming, are you?"

"Guess I'll have to." Damon glanced over, though his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. "Since you'll be there."

"Don't waste your time on my account."

"It'd look a little odd if your new boyfriend didn't show up to spend the evening staring up at a romantic comet with you," he pointed out.

I frowned. "How long are you going to play this game, Damon?"

"Hmm. Until it no longer suits my greater agenda," he said, completely nonchalant. As if this was a perfectly normal thing to share in conversation.

"Greater agenda," I repeated. Pretending to date Katherine's look-a-like until he got Katherine herself. What a screwed-up bastard.

Staring out the side of the car, I watched the buildings slide by. I was beginning to recognize some of them. Not from the show, but from my time here. It'd only been a few days, but it felt so much longer. And shorter.

By the time we reached the park, I saw Caroline and Bonnie's cars already parked across from the Grill. I frowned. I'd gotten into Damon's car before either girl had left the sidewalk at school. Had Damon taken a longer route?

Why?

The question pestered me as we rolled up into an empty parking space, not far from theirs. Damon slid the gearshift into park. "I'll be back later tonight."

"Whatev—" he leaned over before I could pull on the door's handle. Shock and Damon stole the rest of my voice as his mouth met mine for the second time.

This kiss was not the light brush of this morning. Damon's lips caught mine, gliding along until his nose slotted into place beside my own. Fitted together, his work began in earnest. A hundred and forty years of practice focused on me. I tumbled into the spell his mastery of the art weaved around me until I was all tangled up in Damon.

As if his kiss performed alchemy, my worries transformed into want. A heady, furious want that stole my control. For those precious moments, the knowledge of what an exceedingly bad idea this was melted away under a fire stoked by his kiss. I leaned further in, my hand finding its way to his chest.

Before I could do more than tilt my head, Damon slowly moved back.

At some point, I'd closed my eyes. Opening them, I saw Damon, lips plump and red and shining, watching me. The hunger in his eyes—I had to look away.

And I saw Bonnie and Caroline standing a few feet away, outright staring at us.

As if the lust had been a mere catalyst, anger reignited with a roar. I shoved away from him and shouldered the door open, launching myself out. I was about to walk away but the thought that he was using me until he could get Katherine back made me mad enough to forget my senses. Whirling back around, I glared. "Another show."

Damon, lips glistening, fixed me with bedroom eyes. "Get back in the car, and I'll take you where no one's watching."

What was wrong with me that my first impulse was to do it? Let a killer, one I'd seen attack someone, who was constantly threatening the people I knew, take me someplace secluded?

Unsure who I was more furious with, Damon or myself, the camaro's door slammed shut with a bang.

This world was twisting me up. _He_ was twisting me up.

Those dangerous lips of his slipped into a bitter smile. As if he'd called my bluff but wasn't pleased about it. Settling his sunglasses back on, Damon lifted his fingers from the steering wheel and rippled them in a wave.

I was tempted to flick him off but had cooled down enough for good sense to reassert itself. Or what passed as good sense, anyway. I was starting to doubt if I had much at all. I stuck to the sidewalk, walking to where Caroline and Bonnie stood, doing my best to ignore the growling camaro behind me as it pulled away.

Caroline shot me a little smirk at my approach. "So how is he?"

"I still haven't slept with him, Caroline." And I _never_ would.

Surprise wiped the smugness from her face. "Couldn't tell by that kiss." She glanced to the side. "Right, Bonnie?"

Bonnie's lips gave a half-hearted twitch as she shrugged. "I guess."

I crossed my arms. "We've got programs to hand out, don't we?"

Caroline frowned but dropped it. "Yes." She handed me a stack from yesterday.

By unspoken agreement, the three of us headed in opposite directions. I wandered over to the corner across from the clocktower and the Grill.

The park itself was more of the town square. A few city's blocks worth of real estate covered in cut grass and clusters of trees for shade. It wasn't large, but like the rest of Mystic Falls, it was picturesque in that postcard view kind of way. A few tables had been set up already, some serving food and drinks, others featuring local crafts like handmade jewelry and knitwear, and even a table for face painting. Games were going on, everything from horseshoe and cricket to frisbee golf. As the afternoon passed, more and more people began to trickle in, and the park began to fill up.

I strolled my corner, handing out flyers to anyone who passed by. Most everyone had a friendly smile and seemed to know me—or, rather, Elena—by name.

I ran out of programs a half hour before sunset and wandered back towards the last place I'd seen Caroline and Bonnie. Neither girl was there, but a few yards away Matt sat with Tyler with some of the other players and a handful of girls. I couldn't tell if they were all from the cheer squad, but supposed it was a safe bet that more than a few were.

Loathed as I was to deal with Tyler, Matt was a good guy. Of course, he wasn't quite over Elena, if Caroline had been right. Still, they'd been friends, and would be again if anything from the show could still be depended on. Besides, he would know how Vicki was doing. I decided to put a toe in the waters, and if things were too awkward, I could always head off to try one of the games or browse the craft tables.

Hands in my jacket pockets, I climbed the small hill up to where a few picnic tables were gathered. A cooler sat on the ground. I doubted very much if the cans hidden inside sleeves were sodas. Some of the players sat on the table along with Tyler and Matt, the rest were either playing a small game of catch or standing around talking.

"Hey, Matt," I said as I approached the table.

"Elena. Hi." A sweet smile appeared on Matt's face.

Tyler took one look and shook his head, turning away and taking a swig from the can in his hand.

"How are you doing?"

"Alright." He motioned towards the cooler. "Want something to drink?"

"No, not right now, thanks." I rocked on my heels, wondering what to say to someone you were supposed to have dated but had no memory of actually doing so.

"Feel free to grab something if you change your mind."

I smiled.

"Where's your new boyfriend?" Tyler asked, turning to stare over his shoulder.

Some of the shine left Matt's face, but he didn't look away or otherwise leave the conversation.

I brushed my hair back behind my ear. "Not sure. He said he'd be here later tonight."

"You two meet through Stefan?" Matt asked.

I shook my head before putting my hand back into my pocket. "Actually, I spoke to Damon first. We ran into each other." Before Matt could attempt to go above and beyond ex-boyfriend to friend duty, I asked, "How's Vicki?"

Tyler snorted before Matt could answer. "Should ask your brother." His eyes narrowed. "He was selling Vicki pot last I saw her."

Shit.

Matt and I shared a frown.

"Maybe I should go look for him," I murmured.

"You think?" Tyler replied before his can sloshed as he lifted it up for another drink

Matt shot his friend a 'cool it' look over his shoulder before turning back to me. "Need help?"

"Nah." I was pretty sure I'd find Jeremy lurking around Vicki at the Grill. "Thanks."

"No problem."

I felt Matt's eyes lingering as I made my way down the knoll in the general direction of the Grill. It was only a few minutes' walk. The sun was starting to sink, cooling the evening air. The streetlamps had come on and the first few lightening bugs were out. It wouldn't be long before the comet made its appearance.

I checked for a clear space in traffic and hurried across the street. I was close enough to hear the pulsing beat of music thrumming out of the Grill. With a buzz of ozone, a nearby light flickered when a familiar voice called, "Elena."

"Uncle John." I walked further along the sidewalk, until I reached the steps that led down into a small side alleyway.

Uncle John was standing at the bottom beneath a light hanging over what must have been a back entrance to the Grill.

I hoped he wasn't waiting for vampires.

John had a contemplative bend to his brow and mouth. "I expected you to be at the park with your friends."

"I thought Jeremy might be hanging around the Grill," I explained, leaving out the selling of drugs bit. "I wanted to check in with him."

John grinned. "Always looking after your little brother."

I gave an awkward smile, rolling my shoulders forward. I didn't think I'd done a very good job of keeping Jeremy safe lately.

"I won't keep you from your friends." He pushed off the wall. He glanced over my shoulder before focusing back on my face as he walked over to stand in front of me. "I wanted to tell you that you girls did an excellent job."

"Thanks, but all I did was hand out some programs. I'll tell Caroline and Bonnie you said so, though."

"You'd be surprised how much a personal welcome can mean," John said. "Don't sell your efforts short, Elena."

I gave another close-lipped smile. "Alright."

His eyes flitted back behind me. "Suns almost down. Won't be long before the comets visible." He took a hand from his pocket and gestured towards the street. "Let's get you back to your friends."

I nodded and turned to climb the steps.

Even when my arm hurt from the sudden pressure of John's grip, I still didn't expect to be yanked off my feet.

It wasn't vampiric strength that wrapped around my shoulders, pinning me against his chest, but it was more than Elena could wrest out of. I drew a breath, intending to scream, but sucked in a mouthful of wet cotton instead. A sickly-sweet smell came with it, one that curled up into my sinuses, sinking wherever its tendrils spread.

Oddly, it was the darkness that crept like incoming fog around the edges of my vision that panicked me. In that moment between awareness and unconsciousness, a terrible foreboding arose. Something was coming for me. The same thing that came every night.

And it terrified me more than the man dragging me further into the alley.


	9. Nine

**The More Things Change  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.

**Chapter Nine**

I sat on smoothed concrete that had chilled my jeans and worked into my thighs. My arms were pulled back and locked behind me. Voices drifted from high above, muffled by a barrier overhead. The air was perfumed with melted wax and sandalwood incense. Soft light glowed behind my eyelids, tinting the darkness the slightest bit red. I breathed into a vast and hollow space filled by the stillness of controlled air. It was humid and cool around me, the sort that came from being cradled beneath the earth.

Plastic sweetness lingered on my tongue, like I'd drank juice from a melted bottle. My arms and legs were trapped together by something rough and wound in layers.

Where was I?

Only one way to know. That said, the last time I wasn't sure and woke up, it didn't leave the best impression. I'd rather keep my eyes shut and pretend it all away. Unfortunately, that wasn't a realistic option.

Hoping for the best, I cracked my eyelids until I could peek through the blurred darkness of my lashes. All I saw was a floor, dark and grey, interrupted by a smear of white. All lit by the steady gleam of candlelight. Focusing, I realized the smear is a line, two ninety-degree angles joined in a curling point. Not drawn with precision, but by hand. Opening my eyes a little further, I saw the gritty residue chalk had left behind.

Flexing my wrists caused the bindings to rub and scratch at my skin. Rope? My legs, slightly bent at the knees and stretched off to the side, were tied together.

So much for the best.

Smacking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I'd hoped to rid myself of the taste clinging to the back of my throat. Didn't work. So I lifted my head just a little higher. The chalk lines went further out, forming other angles and geometric patterns. There were symbols drawn in the spaces between lines. Tall, fat candles, the sort that cost a couple of dollars at super-centers were arrayed along the outer dimeter of a circle. The candleflames stayed relatively still. A few bowls released a serpentine tendril of incense-scented smoke that twisted and curled towards the ceiling before dissolving into the air.

Given this was Mystic Falls, sitting in the middle of a mysterious occult circle couldn't be good.

Looking around, I saw a room of brick and concrete. No windows, only four walls of brick and mortar. Elsewhere stood exposed wooden pillars stretching up to floor joists. It was one of these two by four beams I was tied to. Some industrial sized shelves set along one wall held various boxes, all shut. Turning my head as far as I could off to the side revealed a staircase leading up to a soft glow.

I was in a basement.

Above me were voices drifting through the floor. The last thing I remembered was John grabbing me outside the Grill, but there wasn't near enough noise for this to be the restaurant's basement. John couldn't have taken me far. Not unless he managed to sneak me to his car.

The fine hairs all over my arms and neck raise at the thought.

Do I stand up, try to find a way out of the ropes on my chest and arms? Do I stay sitting and pretend to be asleep?

Before I had time to consider, footsteps thumped across the floor overhead. I had to decide now. Given the elaborate set up, I didn't think it'd matter if I was awake or asleep for them to do—whatever they intended. Better to try to find a way out, whether by escaping or talking.

Bending my legs under me, I pushed myself up. It was rough going as the rope tied around my chest, arms, and hands had little to no give. It took most of my strength, but I managed to worm my way up the post by the time feet stomped down creaking steps.

Angling my head to watch, I wasn't surprised when John appeared.

The woman he led shocked the hell out of me, though. "Sheila?"

She never moved to help me. Instead, she followed John, coming to a stop right outside the circle and regarded me coolly. I'd never met Bonnie's grandmother, but betrayal slammed into my heart like a sledgehammer, shattering most of my hope. She was supposed to be one of the good guys!

"You know me, then." She held herself at a clinical distance as she studied me.

"It knows a lot." John folded his arms, jacket creaking as his shoulders stretched the leather. "But not enough."

Sheila nodded and moved across from me, where a point was formed inside the circle. On the ground was a mortar and pestle. Lowering a bag from her shoulder, Sheila took out several plastic tubs of Tupperware. Opening them released a breath of herbs. With a pinch, she added a bit of each into the mortar.

"Why can't we just perform an exorcism?" John asked, eyeing Sheila's supplies and the circle with suspicion.

"Because we need its name, which we don't have." Sheila paused to stare at me. "Unless you'd like to share it?"

They knew.

For a moment, the post holding me up was helpful, as my knees trembled. My breath seemed harder to catch as my stomach roiled. My mouth soured, but I couldn't quite swallow.

"How'd you find out?" I managed to ask.

John's answering look chastened me. "Where to start? You don't know anything about Grayson and Miranda, do you?"

I flexed and twisted my hands hard enough to feel the rope scratch my skin. My sights darted around, seeking any way out. "All those stories. You were testing me." I muttered.

"And you failed. Miserably, I might add."

How'd he know to test me in the first place? "And you suspected me from a text?"

There. The twitch of a rueful frown.

"He suspected you because I told him to."

I stiffened at the new voice coming from behind. A woman with a carefully measured, emotionless tone that sounded familiar. I tried to turn my head far enough to look behind me but couldn't manage to see much beyond my side. "Who's there?"

The click of heels allowed me to track her movement behind me until she stepped around my post.

At my first glance of long brown hair pulled back from a square face somewhat familiar to the one I saw in the mirror, it felt as if a hand of ice reached into my chest and grabbed my heart. "Isobel."

Cruelty lurked in the gleam in Elena's mother's dark eyes. "Very good." She regarded John. "It's a shame it's taken over her body. Its knowledge would've made quite the advantage."

"It's an abomination," Sheila snapped. She was sitting on the ground, adding small purple blossoms to her bowl, but paused long enough to glare at Isobel. "It never should have been brought here."

"You know I'm not from this—world?"

Sheila stared up at me. "You don't know what's happened to you, do you?"

A half-crazed laugh burst free. "I just woke up like this."

Sheila sent a narrow-eyed glare off to a disinterested Isobel. "She forced a witch to perform a forbidden spell." Isobel scoffed. Sheila went on. "To pull a spirit with knowledge of the future across dimensions."

"You were supposed to be subservient to Elena," Isobel added. "Not force her out of her body."

"Your witch underestimated its strength," Sheila said.

"I didn't mean to force anyone out of anything," I objected. Though I didn't like the idea of being subservient, either. What? Had she intended to trap me as a voice in Elena's head?

"The makeup of your spirit is slightly different from ours." Sheila continued grinding her mixture together. "Apparently, your kind doesn't share well with others." She paused to add another blossom. "I'll have to expel you to allow Elena a chance to get her body back." She looked up towards the ceiling. "The comet should give me the strength to ensure you're excised."

Expel?

"Wait, please," I searched their faces, looking for an ounce of compassion or hesitance. I found none. "What happens to me? Do I go home?"

"Bringing you here in the first place was a crime against nature. But even if you found a witch willing to break through the walls between realms, you've been outside of your body over three days. And a body needs a spirit to survive." Sheila's hands paused as she lifted her eyes to meet mine. "I'm sorry, but you're dead by now."

My stomach dropped as my heart froze. It was hard to breathe through the ice around my lungs, but I managed to murmur, "I'm dead?"

Shiela ground the pestal around the mortar's inner wall. "You'll enter the veil and exist alongside the other supernatural beings."

"But I'm human."

"Where you're from," Sheila agreed. "Here, you're an extraterrestrial."

An alien? I was a freaking alien?! I could've laughed.

Once I finished sobbing.

I kept my lips pressed tight together.

"Enough talk. Let's get on with it," Isobel demanded.

The pestle _tinked_ against the edge of the mortar as Sheila tapped the rest of the powder back into the bowl. Taking a pinch of the mixture, she leaned forward and sprinkled some over one of the symbols drawn between the circle's inner design.

Fire leapt up from the chalk line. Tied as I was to the post, I tried leaning back but could only arch my head. Fortunately, the fire didn't spread beyond the symbol. It burned tall and bright for several seconds before settling into small blue flames.

Sheila repeated the process with each of the other symbols. I wriggled against my bindings despite the rough chafing of the rope cutting into my skin. I hoped Damon or Stefan would come racing down the stairs. Weren't they always in time to save Elena?

Minutes passed and they never came. A bitter reminder that I wasn't Elena.

The final symbol settled into its eerie blue glow, leaving the whole circle emanating a ghostly cerulean light. An odd sensation settled over me. Or, rather, lack of one as I grew disassociated from the world around me. My thoughts became crystal clear, though. It was only the body I was distanced from.

Even the words Sheila began chanting were nothing but indistinct murmurs coming from a great distance. The longer she murmured, the further into my own thoughts I fell. I became a passanger in the back of Elena's head, staring at the world as if I were watching a movie playing across a great screen.

Darkness closed in. Dread tinged my thoughts, made them fast and scattered. The darker it grew, the more frantic and sharper each thought became.

And then all was black.

Awareness returned in gradual fits and starts. Not my senses of touch or smell, but I could see. As if I'd been dosed with local anesthetic, I could feel the pressure of standing on the floor, but nothing else of it. No sensation of hot or cold. Whether my feet in the shoes were pinched or lose.

I knew I was gone as I noticed Elena's limp body hanging from the ropes securing her to the post. Another Elena stood just outside Sheila's circle a few feet off to my side. She was far more animated, watching with big brown eyes, standing with her arms crossed beneath her chest, hair flowing freely down her upper arms and back. She wore the night clothes I'd woken up in that first morning, shorts and a blue camisole.

We stared at one another. After a moment, I looked down to take in my pale arms with the tendons and muscles standing out that I'd been expecting the whole time I'd been in Elena's body. I was me again.

And dead.

Sheila was still chanting. The words were clearer and sounded like an invocation to nature and the spirits. Crossing my arms, I grabbed my biceps and waited for the other Elena to—I don't know, disappear? Get sucked into her body?

Elena wasn't content to stand and wait silently. She stepped over the distance between us, eyes big and open and sincere. "Hi."

"Hey." My voice. For all the hyper-awareness I had for the body limp in the circle and a certainty I was doomed, it was good to hear myself again. I held onto the fact I was me, even if I was consigned to waiting for the Other Side to be destroyed to… move on, I guess.

Elena stared at her body. "This has been a very weird week."

A scoffing laugh escaped me. "Tell me about it."

"I'm sorry."

I started. "For what? I'm the body snatcher."

"You didn't mean for this to happen. You're as much a victim as I am." Elena's eyes overflowed with earnestness. "I'm sorry you can't go home."

"Oh." I swallowed against the sudden tightening of my throat. "Thank you."

"You're both the latest victims of my children."

I stiffened at the appearance of another voice I knew.

Dressed in a green woolen dress better fit for medieval times, she stood before us, hands folded in front of her. The Original Witch observed me, curiosity lightening her brows. "Esther," I breathed.

She studied us. "You know me."

I swallowed and looked around. Were other villains going to pop out? "Yeah. Of you, at least."

"Then you know my purpose."

I gave a reluctant nod. "To destroy the original vampires you created." My stare flicked to Elena. "What is she doing here?"

"She found me." Elena frowned. "I don't know what would've happened if Esther wasn't there to help."

"Elena," I said quietly, gaze flitting back to the Original Witch before meeting Elena's stare. "She's—you can't trust her."

"Esther's protected me," Elena said. "She agreed to help me get my body back if I'd help her."

My eyes rounded. "What?"

"Elena's agreed to be my agent in the world of the living." Esther wandered a few steps nearer. "Together, we will bring about the end of my children."

"Elena," I began, desperation making my voice higher, "that's not just the death of the Mikaelsons. It's the death of all vampires."

"I know." The corners of Elena's eyes crinkled at the corners as they narrowed.

I stared. "What?"

"They're monsters. Look what they did to Jeremy. To you. And all those innocent people." Surety burned like fire in her eyes. "They can't be allowed to hurt anyone."

"Elena, not all of them are like Damon. And even Damon has good in him." I motioned towards her. "You bring it out."

She shook her head. "I've met enough of their victims. They're evil."

"What about Stefan," I argued. "He hasn't hurt anyone."

"Not lately, but he wasn't always in control of his baser nature. Esther's shown me."

Esther, standing serenely, treated Elena to a slight smile. My stomach flipped. "I'll bet."

"With your knowledge of what's to come, we can end my children once and for all, and restore the balance." Esther's dress flowed over her legs as she stepped even closer.

She had to be kidding. "You want me to help wipe out a whole species?" I shook my head. "Sorry. I'm not into genocide."

"This isn't genocide," Elena argued. "It's—"

"Killing a whole group of people regardless of what the individual is like."

"A whole group of monsters."

"Some of them, sure," I admitted before amending, "Okay, a lot of them. But not all. And some people out there are violent killers, too. Should we wipe out the human race while we're at it?"

"They are an abomination against nature," Esther insisted. "Surely you see that."

"What even is this nature? They exist, don't they? So they're part of, you know," I spread my arms, "nature. How they came to be is from you, right? And you existed in nature. Ipso facto."

"Your logic is flawed."

"Says the genocidal ghost-witch that wants to off her kids." I looked to Elena. "Listen. I know they can be dangerous and violent, but you're not supposed to be like this. You see the good in Stefan and Damon." This was my fault. Or Isobel's, I supposed. Either way, Elena shouldn't hate vampires. Esther had poisoned her.

Damon's killing spree probably hadn't helped, either.

"I'm going to make sure they can't hurt Jeremy, or anyone else, ever again," Elena insisted. She swept around me, staring at her body.

"This is wrong. All of it's wrong." I glared at the witch. "You want to know what I know?"

"Yes," Esther replied, an eager light entering her eyes.

I answered with a grim smile. "You fail. Every time you try, you'll fail."

Esther's lips thinned. "I will have the doppelgänger. I would prefer your assistance as well, but it is not necessary."

I ground my teeth together. I was trying to think of something to say when the basement grew—darker, somehow. The atmosphere around us changed, became heavier, every breath permeated with a sense of dread. I could almost taste the budding fear on the back of my tongue. "What are you doing?"

"It is not I." Esther frowned at a wall. "You did not come alone through the realms. Something followed." Her gaze slid to me. "It follows you still."

Before I could ask what she meant, Sheila's chanting grew in fervor. The source of the dreadful feelings was getting closer. I had to stop this.

Elena had managed to mess with lights. Maybe I could disrupt the circle.

I strode over and tried to kick at a candle. The flame flickered a bit, but my foot passed right through it. I gaped. How come I could stand on the floor and not interact with a candle?

"You will not be able to affect anything beyond the veil." Esther came up beside me. "You'd require great powers of nature, which you do not have."

Clenching my fists, I tried concentrating on the candle, pouring everything into staring at it until my eyes hurt from the strain. I kicked out again.

Nothing.

Esther joined Elena. "It is almost time."

A dark figure appeared behind John. Pale hands took hold of either side of his neck. John's eyes had just widened in alarm when his head twisted to the side with a crack. As he dropped to the floor, I saw his murderer. Damon, face transformed into his vampiric form, glared with blooded eyes over at Sheila. "What have you done, witch?"

Sheila stood her ground, tall and unafraid. She pointed to Elena's lifeless body. "That was not Elena Gilbert. A spirit from a world beyond had possessed her body. I have excised it and am making sure the real Elena returns."

Damon blinked, mouth parting to say something, when he was knocked to the ground.

Isobel was on top of him, hands around his neck, fangs bared as she hissed.

As Damon struggled, he suddenly narrowed his eyes. "Do I know you?" he gasped before his hand shot out and took hold of her throat.

I watched, eyes wide from shock, as Damon squeezed Isobel's neck until she let go of his and scrambled at his wrist. Grip holding strong, he flung her up and over, where she flew into the shelving at the back of the basement. I couldn't see him stand, he was just up on his feet, glaring in Isobel's direction. "I definitely know you," he said, pointing.

Damon was about to stalk over when his eyes rolled back into his skull. He let out a shout. His hands went to his head, to cover his ears. He pressed down as if he were trying to keep out some piercing noise. Eyes squeezed shut tight enough that his nose crinkled, he sank to his knees and groaned.

Sheila stood beside the circle, eyes fixed on Damon.

Isobel was back up, and stalking across the room, heels clicking with every step. As she reached Damon, she drew her hand back.

Right where his heart would be.

I shouted for her to stop, but of course she didn't hear. And she wouldn't have listened even if she could.

Another hand appeared, gripping her arm. Forcing her around and back from Damon with an intense struggle was Stefan. Eyes narrowed and jaw flaring, he fought to match Isobel's strength.

Damon, peering up at Sheila through a pained squint, struggled to crawl towards the circle. Whatever Sheila was doing must have redoubled. Damon cried out again, collapsing to his side and curling in on himself.

Stefan was faring no better. Despite her youth compared to him, Isobel was gaining the upper hand. Teeth grit, Stefan strived to force Isobel closer to the staircase.

With Sheila's magic occupied keeping Damon down, Esther hastened to her side. Lifting her arms and resuming the chant, the flames on the candles suddenly surged upwards. They burned so high and hot, the wax began to bubble as it ran over and down the sides in thick rivulets.

Elena stepped carefully over the circle, seeking to get closer to her body. When she was close enough to reach out and touch her arm, I did the only thing I could think of and ran at Elena. She felt solid as my shoulder slammed into her. Both of us smacked against the concrete floor hard enough to rattle bones, or whatever served as bones on this side, but there was no pain.

Elena tried forcing my head away with her hands shoving against my chin. All I felt was the same distant pressure. I kept one hand on her shoulder, my forearm pressing down against her throat as I sat on her waist to keep her down.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders, wrenching me off Elena.

John had his arms around my waist, yanking me away. Spinning from the circle, he flung me back towards the wall. I hit the ground hard, but only felt a sudden push against my shoulders and skull.

Peering up, I saw Stefan had managed to press Isobel up against the banister. Before he could do more, Isobel grabbed his collar and spun him around, pinning his back to the bottom steps.

John picked me up, slammed me against the wall. Now I was the one pinned with an arm across my throat. The pressure was irritating, but being unable to move worried me more. "Let go!"

"Not until Elena's back in her body." John's eyes were cold as he glared down at me.

I fought against his hold, but he was too strong to force off. Elena was almost to her body. I tried to kick at John's shins, but the lack of pain for me must have also been true for him. He didn't even flinch.

Until his eyes widened, so round I could see the whites all the way around his irises. He shouted in fright, dropping me as he backpaddled away.

Behind me, something growled from the wall.

I didn't look. I ran. Straight for Elena, I grabbed her arm before she could make contact and the two of us tumbled back to the ground. Back near the place I'd been standing, John screamed.

Terrified, I turned my head away from the sound and saw Isobel had a hand over Stefan's chest. She tried to force her fingers through his ribs. Stefan, teeth still clenched, let out a strangled groan as her nails pierced his skin. He let go of her wrist and reached out to the banister, taking hold of one of the balusters. It broke off with a crack of splitting wood.

Isobel only realized what he'd done when he drove the makeshift stake through her side, straight into her heart.

Staring at him in shock, she dropped to the side, skin turning ashen as veins climbed her neck and face. Stefan shoved her the rest of the way off.

And was then behind Sheila.

"Don't!" Damon tried calling through a throat tight with pain, strangling his voice.

But Stefan already had both hands around Sheila's head. Bonnie's grandmother had an instant of awareness as her eyes widened, and then the crack of snapping bones thundered across the basement.

"No!" Elena cried, hands flying up to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears.

Esther frowned. "We must go," she said, taking Elena's arm.

"No!" Elena threw off Esther's grip, but Esther took hold of her again.

Elena's eyes met mine, glistening with tears and burning with a terrible anger. And then they were gone.

John's screams were growing weaker. Terrified that I'd be next, I didn't hesitate to lunge for Elena's body.

Pain. Glorious pain, pulsing up from my wrists where the rope had burned my skin. I sucked down a breath, tasted wax and sandalwood and earth. Lifting my head, I found Damon bearing down on Stefan, a terrible fury contorting his features.

"What the hell did you do!" he demanded.

Pale and mesmerized, Stefan stared at Sheila's body. He swallowed. "What I had to."

"Stefan," Damon drew out the name, as an adult would when calling an unruly child. "We're supposed to protect Emily's line."

Stefan's eyes flashed. "What choice did I have, Damon? She was killing you. She'd done something to Elena," he insisted, flinging a hand towards me.

"Uh, guys?" I grimaced. "Can someone get these ropes?"

Anger and frustration were overtaken by surprise as the brothers' attention snapped to me. "Elena," Stefan said, rushing past Sheila's body and over the circle to my side.

Damon stayed where he was, eyes narrowed in contemplation. "Hold on, brother."

Stefan, hands hovering over the ropes that bound me to the post, frowned. "What?"

Damon strode leisurely over Sheila's crumpled form and between the circle's lines. "Sheila said that this isn't really Elena."

A chill climbed my neck. "Damon," I entreated.

"What was she talking about?" He insisted, frost-bright stare burning my eyes.

I shivered. Taking another breath, I admitted, "I'm not Elena Gilbert."

Stefan's hands jerked away, and he took a step back.

"But I'm the same person you've known these past few days." My sights flew between them both, imploring them to listen. "I woke up in Elena's body the morning I met both of you. I've been trapped in it ever since. Isobel," I nodded to the dead vampire on the stairs, "said she had some witch summon me from another dimension." Both brothers were skeptical, their brows furrowed in disbelief as their eyes narrowed. "I was supposed to share information about the future with Elena. But I guess my spirit or whatever was too strong. She was forced out and I got shoved in."

"Well, that's insane," Damon said, tone droll.

"What are you?" Stefan asked. "Some kind of seer?"

"Not exactly." I shifted despite the ropes binding me. "Sheila said I was, um, an alien?"

They stared.

"I mean, I guess if I'm from another dimension, then technically I'm not from this planet. Or universe. So, yeah." I swallowed. "Alien."

"An alien," Stefan repeated, brows pinched together.

"Technically."

"So, what? You're really some little green man?" Damon demanded, incredulous.

I frowned. "No. I'm pale with dark brown hair. My eyes are amber." I thought they were my best feature. "I'm a human woman. Just—not from this world." I shouldn't have said anything about the alien thing.

Another shock of pain from my shoulders and wrists made me eager to get out of the basement. "Look. Can one of you untie me? I'll explain everything I know back at your place if you want. And you can decide what you want to do with me."

Stefan shook his head. "We're not going to hurt you, Ele—" he paused, squinting. "What's your name?"

"Sheila said she could perform a standard exorcism if she knew my name. No crazy circle or comet needed." I frowned. "I'm… thinking it's better not to say." I wrested my hands again, wincing at the pinch. "But I'll tell you everything else if you'll get me out of here."

The brothers exchanged another look. Damon gave a short, curt nod and Stefan reached out again.

He had the ropes ripped apart with a single tug.

I almost collapsed, but Damon caught my shoulders. Stefan bent down and tore apart the ropes around my legs.

My shoulders burned as I struggled to let my arms fall into a more natural position. Studying my wrists, I saw they were raw and red where the rope had chafed my skin. I breathed a sigh of relief before meeting the brothers' gazes. "How'd you know I was here?"

"I was looking for you when Jeremy noticed the light was on in your—his—father's old office," Damon explained. "When I got close enough, I heard chanting."

"And I was following Damon," Stefan added.

I'd never been so grateful to have a pair of stalkers. I smiled. "Thanks for saving me."

Stefan treated me to a gentle smile. Damon glanced aside and shrugged.

"You promised answers," Damon said, sights fixed back on me.

I nodded and tiptoed across the lines and around the now smoking symbols. Damon and Stefan followed. Together, we started up the stairs. From the corner of my eye, I thought I saw John's body twitch.

I sped up, escaping the basement and Grayson's office before John had a second shot at kidnapping me.


	10. Ten

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** As always, thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites! I really like reading your speculations for what's coming. Lets me know how well the hints I'm dropping are working out. Or not.

**Chapter Ten**

A chill haunted me the entirety of the drive to the Boarding House. It spread throughout my limbs as if I were freezing as night's shadows rushed by beyond the window. If it wasn't being exorcised from Elena's body, it might've been the silence emanating from the front seat. The occasional flicker of Damon's stare in the rearview mirror. The way Stefan kept combing his hand through his hair. With the radio off the car was quiet. Only the whisper of the road beneath the tires to fill the silence.

Despite the soft lighting, the Boarding House loomed over the grounds once night had fallen. Damon pulled around where a carriage house once stood, renovated into a garage. The camaro glided inside. Once the car shut off, his eyes sought me out in the mirror. "Home sweet home."

I pulled my jacket tighter around me, as if that might ward off the frost filling my veins.

Stefan was the first out. His eyes were shadowed beneath a brooding brow, his lips turned into a slight frown. He left the garage without a backwards glance.

Damon's reflection tracked him. "Hm." Crinkles appeared around his eyes. "Been too long since he snapped a neck or two."

My brows pulled low. "That's not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be." Damon stretched his own neck out and added, "Now. About those answers—"

I pushed my way out of his car, shivering a little as the night air brushed against me. "Can we do this inside?"

Damon was out and leaning against the door as soon as it banged shut. "Not going to do anything _weird_, are you? Like make strange nests dripping with goo or pop out of anyone's chest?"

I fixed him with a flat, distinctly unamused look. "I told you, I'm human."

His eyes widened as he leaned the slightest bit forward. "Maybe you're just saying that. Trying to fool me. And the instant I let my guard down, you're going to spit out a face hugger."

"If I was going to plant an egg down your throat, I think I'd have done it this afternoon," I pointed out tartly.

His lips firmed into a line before stretching into a wry smile. "Good point." He extended an arm. "After you."

A cobblestone path to the main house guided me across the lawn. Damon hurried forward to open the door for me, waiting until I'd passed then following. I paused, letting him take the lead once we were both inside.

Damon took an immediate left, towards the room he'd emerged from the day before, during his little sorority get together. Taking hold of double doors, he swung them open in one grand push.

The room beyond was familiar. From the wet bar at the far side, to the fireplace that dominated the center and pulled in the eye. The walls were hidden behind bookshelves that stood as tall as the ceiling. The furniture was all antique, perfectly upkept as they shone in the sunlight streaming in from the two large windows to either side of the fireplace. It smelt of woodsmoke, leather, and the faintest hint of aged paper.

I wasn't surprised when Damon's first stop was the bar. Glass clinked together as he lifted a decanter of what I supposed was bourbon. Pouring himself a generous portion, he took a long sip before his attention settled in my direction. "Help yourself."

My boots sank into the plush rug that covered the entire length of the room. As soon as I was close enough to reach out and pluck a glass, Damon indicated a bottle with a wave of his drink. "Tequila's there."

I picked it up. The label was in Spanish, and I'd never gotten beyond the first year in high school to translate it. But it was the deepest gold I'd ever seen, almost an ochre. Lifting the tumbler to my lips, I breathed in the sharp scent and tilted back the whole thing. It was smooth as cream on my tongue and flowed down my throat like water. I didn't stop, swallowing mouthful after mouthful, until the whole of the glass was gone.

Damon sipped at his glass as I refilled mine. "So. Now that you've gotten a few shots of my five-hundred-dollar tequila down to calm the nerves, want to start from the beginning?"

I didn't even feel bad about downing such expensive liquor. Wasn't like he couldn't afford it. "Where's Stefan?"

Damon's head tilted back towards the ceiling. "Brooding in his room."

"Should I wait for—"

"He'll hear you," he assured me.

I pressed my lips together and stared into the liquid sunset held within the tumbler. "There's not much to tell beyond what I've already said. You know what I know."

"Oh, I doubt that." Damon wandered to a chesterfield sofa. "This future knowledge business, for example." He sat down, one arm stretching out across the back.

I sidled towards a bookshelf. "Okay, so there's that."

"Then you do know the future?"

I took in the first titles I my sights fell upon. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. The Prince and the Pauper. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. "That depends. I thought so, but things are—different."

Using his nearly full tumbler, Damon gestured for me to continue.

"For starters? Sheila and Isobel shouldn't be dead." I slid Huckleberry partway from the shelf. It had been bound in an olive-green fabric, inlaid with gold. An old-fashioned illustration graced a corner of the cover, but the binding showed little wear. I wouldn't have been surprised to learn it was a first edition. "Things have been changing since my first day. You were never supposed to corner Elena in an antique shop. Or take her home. Or basically do any of the things you've done." I took another deep draught. "Elena meets Stefan first. At least as far as she knows. They end up dating. Not—" I waved a hand between us, "whatever the hell this is."

"Hm." His finger tapped the side of his glass. "So you know _a_ future."

I slid the book back onto the shelf. "Yeah."

"How?"

"Does it matter?" I inwardly cringed at the thought of explaining all of this was a television show.

Damon gave a one-armed shrug. "I'm curious."

He asked for it. "Where I'm from, your lives are a story."

Damon's brows lifted in interest. "And you've read it."

I grimaced, admitting, "And watched it." I grabbed my bicep, rolling my shoulders forward in a half-hug. "This seems to be based on the—television version."

Damon's head tipped all the way back onto the back of the couch, a smirk gracing his face as he said, "I am very captivating."

I tell him he's a fictional character, and instead of triggering some existential crisis, he makes it about how amazing he is. Figures. "Hardly anything's followed the versions I know."

"Do you know why I'm here?" he asked, a quiet intensity sharpening the question.

I hesitate. "Yes."

Damon's eyes blazed. "Does it work?"

I take another drink. "Yes," I rasp. Triumph and jubilation light up his face. He looks younger, softer and shining. I hate that I can't leave him on cloud nine. "But it's one of those things where getting what you want makes you miserable."

"I'm not saying we won't have issues to work out," Damon said. "A hundred and forty-five years is a long time to be single, but what relationship doesn't take a bit of work?"

My bottom lip curled between my teeth. Did I correct him? Seemed like a good way to goad his temper. But if I didn't, and he found out later, I was certain I'd end up injured or dead. I squeezed the glass in my hand. "She's not in the tomb, Damon."

For a moment Damon stilled, eyes piercing mine as he processed my words. I knew he understood when he launched himself off the couch. He prowled into my space, tall and looming and dominating. Light-headed, I found it impossible to move. "What do you mean," he asked quietly, "she's not in the tomb?"

My mouth was parched despite the tequila clinging to my tongue. I swallowed. "Katherine was never in the tomb. She's been free this whole time."

Damon shook his head, denial deepening the set of his frown and the steep furrow of his brow. "No. She would've heard about us. Would've looked for us." The tundra of his eyes thawed and glistened as the frost melted. Beneath the ice lay such raw emotion that the merest glimpse stole my breath. "For me."

I didn't know what to tell him, and I couldn't bare the nakedness of his stare. I peered into my drink, wishing I could divine something comforting to say.

Glass shattered. I jumped and lifted my eyes. Damon's vampiric features became all I could see. He grabbed my jacket's lapels, hiking me up and shoving me into the bookshelf hard enough to force the air from my lungs. My glass hit the floor, filling the space between us with the fumes of tequila that mixed with his bourbon laden breath.

I reached up and grabbed his wrist, terror raking ice-cold claws over me. "Damon!"

"You're lying," he insisted, pain sharpening every line of his face.

"I wish I was," I insisted through chattering teeth.

Damon's snarl stretched wider as Stefan appeared, arm around Damon's neck as he tried to force him back. "Damon!"

Damon scowled, but let me go. He grabbed his brother's forearm instead, yanking it away. Stefan's arm shook as Damon's fingers dug in mercilessly, till the pale skin turned bleached white. Damon turned and took Stefan's throat. The next thing I knew there was another crash of glass and the two vampires were gone.

Gasping with my hand pressed to my chest, I scanned the room for either brother. One of the large windows was broken. Most of its glass had been smashed out and the wooden frame was cracked and splintered. I rushed over, mindful of the edges as I gripped the sill to lean over and look out on the yard.

Damon and Stefan stood face to face, several feet apart. Blood was smeared across their faces as they glared at one another.

"Is that why you came back? Why you killed all those people?" Stefan demanded, anger curled up in his voice, darkening his words. "For Katherine?"

Damon's lips stretched until he was baring his teeth. "You never deserved her!"

Stefan stared as if his brother were speaking an entirely different language he couldn't begin to comprehend. "She compelled us, Damon!"

"She never compelled me!"

In the quiet that followed, I could hear the whispering of the grass. Leaves brushed against one another. A moth fluttered by, attracted by the light spilling through the window. Stefan looked as if a final piece of a long worked and elusive puzzle had finally snapped into place. The picture it created was one to be pitied.

"I knew what she was. What she planned. She shared all of it with me." Damon spoke as if every word was dragged through a throat full of thorns, leaving each one raw and bloody. My throat tightened in sympathy. "She wouldn't abandon me!" His eyes labeled me as the worst sort of sinner. "It's a lie!"

Stefan's frown was thoughtful. When he spoke again, it was to me. "Tell Damon something only he would remember. If you know that much about us, prove it."

I had to remind myself that I didn't need to raise my voice. "I already have. He almost killed Jeremy for it."

Damon's lips curled into a scowl. "I told you, you're—"

"If it wasn't true," I said softly, barely speaking above a whisper, "it wouldn't have made you so angry." I straightened. "But if you want something else," I thought for a moment and drudged up an event from the show I was sure Damon hadn't shared with Stefan. "During the War, Stefan sent you a letter that worried you enough to ask for leave to go home and see him. Your commander offered to grant it if you took on a mission rounding up deserters. You agreed." Damon's eyes widened. "It led you to a farmhouse where a family had hidden two confederates. When you tried to take them into custody, the family drew weapons on you. You killed them."

Damon stared at me. Stefan stared at Damon.

Suddenly, the spot where Damon had stood was empty.

Stefan's attention fell on me. "It's true."

"Do you want proof?"

Stefan rubbed his forehead. "I'm afraid to ask."

"Chicago. The closet."

He stilled a moment and nodded. "I'm surprised you ever agreed to be alone with me."

"I had concerns," I admitted. "But you aren't like that." Now.

Stefan glanced away. After a moment, he crossed the lawn to the window. "What happened with Katherine?" he asked as he climbed back inside.

I stepped back as he started brushing grass off his clothes. "There was a tomb beneath the church that Emily spelled using the comet that had passed over. The vampires would wait within it until the comet passed by again, charging a crystal with enough power to undue the spell. But Katherine never went in. She told a guard she'd turn him and escaped. The others are still locked inside by magic, desiccated."

"Sounds like Katherine." Stefan, eyes narrowed, frowned. "If you know she wasn't in the tomb, Damon must have opened it. And you said the other vampires were locked away." I was surprised he'd pieced that together himself, but I suppose I shouldn't have been. Stefan was clever. "Were they released?"

"Yes."

"We need to make sure that doesn't happen."

"I don't think it will." I lowered my head. "Sheila helped remove the barrier."

Stefan looked at his hands and took a breath. "That doesn't mean Damon won't find another witch."

I thought of Bree. And there was still Bonnie, even though she hadn't come into her full power yet. And once he got the crystal, he might not need a lot of power. "I suppose."

"What else do you know?"

I stared. "Stefan, there were over a hundred and seventy episodes."

His brows lifted. "And you watched them all?"

I flushed and chose not to comment. "I don't know how much is already different." I shook my head. "The smallest changes are spiraling out of control. I had no idea tonight would happen. Sheila and Isobel should be alive." My look was grim. "Their deaths are going to change things."

Stefan stepped to the fireplace. "Let's start with what you know about them." He crouched down and moved several pieces of wood onto the grill.

"Actually, there's something else we need to discuss first." Stefan paused and peered over his shoulder. Crossing the room, I joined him at the mantel and sat beside him. "They're called the Originals."

* * *

The sun was up by the time I finished. Despite a steady flow of juice and tequila that required several bathroom breaks, my throat was dry from so much talking. Stefan had listened carefully, only interrupting for clarification.

Within the first half hour he had a blank journal open and was taking notes.

Brows drawn and mouth turned into a slight frown, he hadn't stopped writing. The scratch of pen on paper filled the rest of the room while I sat on the floor and stared into the dying fire's embers. The look on Sheila's face, the fury in Elena's stare—the two faces haunted me no matter how much tequila I'd drank.

The front door opened while it was still early. I knew who it was before I twisted around.

Damon was leaning against the doorway, arms folded. "We're opening the tomb."

I stood. Stefan, shutting the journal, rose with me. I walked up until I was standing beside him. "Damon, Katherine's not—"

"I'll see for myself." Lips pressed into a determined line and eyes bright with certainty, Damon lifted a hand. "I'll do it with or without your help. And who knows, maybe a few other vampires will get out if someone's not there to watch me."

Stefan started forward but stopped as I pressed my hand against his chest. "Alright. I'll help you. But I have terms."

Damon's head dipped to the side as he chuckled. "Terms?"

I answered with a firm nod. "Yeah. And you'll agree to them, because otherwise, you're going to have a hell of a time getting inside." I was pretty sure Emily was still determined to stop him. And this time he didn't have Sheila.

Damon's lips pursed. After a moment's thought, he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered down the steps. "Let's hear them."

"You leave Elena's family and friends alone, Damon. And the killing? It stops."

His mouth twisted into a smile. "What if you're kidnapped again?"

"You know what I mean."

He held up his hands. "Fine. Agreed. Sip and erase. What else?"

I was surprised that he'd agreed to the no killing term so easily. I blinked, thoughts racing over the possibilities. "You don't take off after you find out that she's not in the tomb. You stay here, in Mystic Falls."

Both brothers' eyes narrowed. "Small towns aren't really my thing," Damon said.

"You want my help?"

"Fine," he groused through clenched teeth. "Anything else? My firstborn?" He rolled back on his heels. "Oh, wait. Vampires can't procreate. Going to have to strike that demand off the list, Rumpelstiltskin."

I've shown more good humor at a funeral. "You don't feed on or compel me ever again."

"You sure?" He asked, leering at my neck. Stefan took a step forward, prepared to go toe to toe with Damon. Damon leaned back and lifted both hands back up with fingers spread. "Fine." His demeanor brightened. "So, Rumple, how are we getting in?"

"Aside from the crystal, there's a grimoire." I paused before admitting, "Buried with your father."

Stefan and Damon exchanged a surprised glance. "Clever witch," Damon muttered.

"Who's going to be pissed. She's already planning on destroying the amulet." Damon's gaze darkened. "You're going to have to make sure Bonnie gets nowhere near it. Which won't be easy." I frowned. "Emily has the ability to affect this world from the Other Side."

"We need to take precautions against spirits as it is," Stefan pointed out. Then again, he knew about Esther and the real Elena. "Elena says you know a witch."

"I know a couple. One of whom even talks to me," Damon smirked.

"There are whole covens of them in New Orleans, but I'm not certain they'd help," I said. "If we're lucky, there may be something in Emily's grimoire."

"We stick to Damon's friend," Stefan decided. "We need something to ensure they can't spy on us."

"I'd better head out soon, then. Georgia's a drive." Damon's brows rose. "You can dig up dear ol' dad, can't you, Stefan? Seeing as it was you who put him six feet under in the first place."

Stefan fixed Damon with an unamused stare. "I'll get the grimoire."

Damon's keys jangled as he pulled them from his pocket. "Then I'll take care of the ghosts." He looked to me. "Though, we might have another problem. When I went back to clean up, John wasn't in the basement."

"I figured."

Damon's brow furrowed. "You knew he'd be a zombie?"

"He's not a zombie," I corrected. "He's got a ring that brings him back to life whenever something supernatural kills him."

Damon became incredulous. "Why didn't you say so sooner? I could've taken it off him!"

"First of all, it only works on humans, so it'd be useless to you. Second, I knew you'd put him down permanently." I glowered. "And you agreed, no killing family."

"And when he kidnaps you again?" Damon asked, a snide curl to his lips.

"She'll stay with us," Stefan said. "Until we figure out a way to handle John."

Damon scoffed. "Have fun telling her aunt that her seventeen-year-old niece is shaking up here. With her twenty-five-year-old boyfriend." He pulled sunglasses out of his jacket's inner pocket. "I'm sure that'll go over great." He unfolded the temples and arched a brow. "I know times have changed, Stefan, but I don't think they've changed _that_ much."

Stefan folded his arms. "If you have a better idea, now's the time to share, Damon."

"This would be so much easier if we killed him," Damon pointed out in a reasonable tone. At my glower, he held up a hand. "Just saying."

"There are other ways to deal with John," I said.

"I suppose we could kidnap him, for a change. Put him in one of the cells downstairs until the vervain is out of his system."

Stefan's tipped his head to the side. "It's… not the worst idea." He admitted this grudgingly.

"Hello, Zach!" Damon called, smirking.

Zach stood in the doorway, a slump to his shoulders and a dull sheen in his eyes. "I didn't hear any of this."

"Probably for the best," Damon agreed amiably.

Zach wandered away. Damon and Stefan exchanged a long look. "Should one of us stay here with Elena while the other looks for John?"

"Wait." Their attention fell on me. "All of John's things are back at Elena's."

"He knows I can come in," Damon pointed out. "If he's smart, he's used the evening to pack up and get out."

I thought about the John Gilbert from the show and shook my head. "He's arrogant. Prideful. The ring makes him feel invulnerable." I felt sure he'd still be there.

The brothers exchanged another glance. Stefan shrugged. "It's worth a look."

"I'll drive," Damon announced, jiggling his keys and striding off for the door.

Stefan followed, pausing as I headed after him. Both brothers ended up staring me down. I lifted my chin. "I'm going too."

Stefan took a moment, thinking. "She'll be safer with us."

Damon sighed and looked to the ceiling. "Fine." He pointed to me. "But you do as we say."

I nodded. "Alright."

Satisfied with my assurance, the three of us headed out to the garage.

* * *

The camaro glided slowly up the street until the Gilbert house came in view. I felt vindicated at the sight of a certain silver Passat in the driveway. "He's here. Or his car is, at least."

"So he's an idiot," Damon concluded, rolling up into the driveway beside John's car.

"He doesn't have the device already, does he?" Stefan wondered, turning to look at me.

"What device?" Damon asked.

"Apparently there's a council made up of the founding families. They've been passing down knowledge of vampires through the generations, along with a few hunting tools Johnathan Gilbert invented," Stefan explained.

"It was actually Emily spelling them," I reminded him.

Stefan nodded in my direction. "One of them was a box of some kind. It emits a noise that overwhelms supernatural creatures. Disables them."

"Guess you two did a lot of talking last night," Damon's tone was sour.

"You shouldn't have run off," Stefan shot back.

"Oh, I think you should be glad I did," Damon answered darkly.

"Guys. Focus." As they quieted down, I went on. "I don't think he's had the time to collect all the pieces. For some reason, the council took it apart and made sure each family got a part to hold on to."

"Only one way to find out," Damon said.

The three of us climbed out of the car and followed the sidewalk around to the side entrance. At the steps, I could hear the clang of pots and pans beyond the door. John must have been in the kitchen.

Stefan pushed me behind him and nodded to Damon. Damon stilled, listening. Satisfied with whatever he'd heard, he took hold of the door and flung it open.

John stood in front of the counter, chef's knife in hand and a spread of vegetables arrayed on a cutting board in front of him. "Good morning."

A collective hesitation passed through the three of us as we glanced at one another. John looked to us with a smile and returned to the onion he had on the board. He pressed the tip of the knife in, sliding it through the crisp white flesh. "I was wondering when you'd be home," he paused, a smirk flickering onto his face as he drawled out, "E-lay-nah."

My brows cinched tight together. "You didn't think I'd run for it?"

John chuckled. "No." He swept up a handful of chopped onion onto the edge of the blade and carried it over to the pan, where he dropped it in with a hiss. "This is where you've always wanted to be, isn't it?" Using a spatula, he mixed the onions around as they sizzled. "Isn't that why, of all the souls the spell could have taken, yours was chosen?"

"Figured it was luck of the draw." The bad kind.

Slipping his finger along the side of the knife, he shook his head. "No such thing."

Damon took a step forward. "Well, John, fascinating as this all is, you're coming with us."

"Am I?" John asked, spinning back to the counter. "And I thought you were here to kill me."

Damon shrugged. "I've been overruled. We're taking you to our place instead."

"Must be frustrating. Are you sure you wouldn't like to take a crack at it, Damon?"

He scoffed. "I know about your ring."

"Obviously."

Stefan and I exchanged another glance.

"Is that what's stopping you?" He drove the knife into the cutting board so hard the _thunk_ of the point sinking deep into the wood made me jump. The knife wobbled as he turned, showing us his hand. With a bit of twisting and tugging, pulled the ring off his finger. "There," he said, tossing it to a stunned Damon. Absently, Damon reached up and caught it.

Staring at John, skepticism shuttered Damon's gaze. "I made a deal."

"How uncharacteristically honorable of you." John replied, shutting off the stove. "Just let me clean up." He smiled over his shoulder at us. "Waste not…"

"Pack up his things, Elena." Stefan ordered in a quiet murmur. Speaking up, he added, "I'll take his car."

"Be careful with it," John replied. "It's a rental."

"You'll be alright?" Stefan asked Damon.

Damon strode over to the counter and yanked the chef's knife free of the cutting board. He angled the blade as he examined it. "Plenty of space in the trunk for a body." He kept the knife up as he gripped John by the shoulder and forced him around. "Trust me." Knife near John's throat, a knowing grin stretched across Damon's face.

John smiled back, not a hint of tension in his face or body.

I carefully rounded around them both and scurried for the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Reaching the guest room next to the master bedroom, I swept my hair back behind my ears as I headed for the closet. His suitcase was inside, along with a few clothes on the hangers. Pulling the suitcase free, I laid it on the made-up bed and started stuffing the clothes from the closet inside. Once I had it emptied, I dug through the dresser's drawers.

When I couldn't find any more of John's belongings, I shoved the suitcase's lid down. I hadn't folded his clothes, so it took a bit of wrestling with the zipper to get it shut. It was my first kidnapping, but I doubted I had the time to pack his things up any neater.

It took both hands to lug the suitcase back down the hall and the stairs. By the time I reached the kitchen, the food and pans were gone, along with John and Damon. A rumble from the dishwasher suggested someone had loaded it. I had trouble picturing Damon doing something so domestic, but I couldn't believe he'd let John load it, either.

Hauling the luggage outside, I reached the steps and the morning air in time to see Damon slamming the trunk shut.

"Here," I said, bringing the suitcase to him.

"I'll take it," Stefan said from the silver passat parked next to the camaro.

Damon fixed his sunglasses back on his nose as he reached out and took the suitcase from me. Naturally he lifted it as if it were filled with styrofoam. He shot a smirk at a frowning Stefan as he lifted it over the back door and set it between the seats.

Damon's smugness and Stefan's suppressed frustration confused me. They acted as if Damon had won some kind of battle.

These two. Sometimes they were just strange.

"I'll drop off John and head out," Damon said, strutting to the driver's seat. He met my gaze over the tops of his sunglasses. "Want to come?"

"She has school." Stefan made it clear this was the end of the conversation.

Damon glanced over. "C'mon, Stef. Girl was kidnapped and woke up to a bunch of dead bodies."

"And was manhandled by an unstable vampire," Stefan added, voice dark.

"See?" Damon's grin was wide and carefree. "She's earned a skip day."

"Not with you," Stefan shot back.

"Oh? Should she go digging up a skeleton instead? Sounds like loads of fun." Damon turned back to me. "Where I'm going, there's a bar."

"Actually," I began with a sigh, "I was going to get some sleep."

Damon shrugged and turned the engine. "Suit yourself," he said, shifting the car into reverse and backing out.

Stefan wandered next to me as I watched Damon disappear down the street. Concern radiated from him as he met my glance. "You'll be alright?"

"So long as John's locked up, who else could know?"

Stefan frowned. "Esther and Elena. The other Elena," he corrected.

I looked to the driveway and noticed a small crack running between one of the slabs. I wondered if it had been there before the Gilberts' deaths. "They could cause problems wherever I am." I took a breath and looked back up. "But I need a few hours. I'll see if I can make lunch and the rest of the day."

Stefan gave a reluctant nod. "I should be done by then."

"You're not going to get caught, digging up a body during the day?"

"It's fairly secluded where Father's buried. And even if I'm spotted, I have enough strength for a light compulsion."

"You should try to make it in time for Tanner's class." At his curious glance, I shrugged. "You know, you're supposed to join the football team today." I couldn't hold back a sly smile.

Stefan looked aside, giving me a good view of his unfairly handsome profile. "Yeah. That's not going to happen."

"But it's essential to the future, Stefan."

He fixed me with a flat stare. "Is this about the uniform?"

My smile widened into a full grin. "Maybe."

Stefan shook his head and wandered back to the passat. He paused after opening the door, glancing over a shoulder. "Have fun at cheer practice."

"Evil," I muttered, too low for human ears. Stefan sent me a smirk better suited for his brother as the door shut.

I waited until he drove off before heading back inside and heeding the siren call of Elena's bed.


	11. Eleven

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** Warning for mutilation. Please skip this chapter if such a subject bothers you.

**Chapter Eleven**

Cheer practice was a disaster.

Not that this surprised me. Between my nerves being shot from the night before, the circle's under Bonnie's eyes and her continued avoidance—made worse by _my_ avoiding her, and Caroline's transformation into a drill sergeant from hell, it was the embodiment of misery. I'd tried to quit before we'd even started, but one stern glare from Caroline made the words die in my throat. I figured it was better for 'Elena' to perform so badly, Caroline might toss me off the squad herself. Hopefully not from the top of a pyramid.

Not that I could've balanced well enough to make it to the top in the first place.

Stefan wasn't with the other guys on the field. I thought he wasn't around at all when, during a water break, I spied him up on the bleachers, watching. The knowledge I had him as an audience to my failure made everything that much more humiliating.

As soon as Caroline declared the day finished, glaring at me in a way that made me happy she wasn't a vampire, Bonnie hurried off. If I remembered the episode right, she should've gone to dinner with me and Stefan. And then Damon and Caroline show up.

Guess that was off the agenda.

Instead of heading straight off to my bag, I shuffled to the stands. Stefan met me halfway down, folded arms resting on the railing as he leaned over. "Hope you enjoyed the show," I said, sour.

He smiled. "I take it you weren't a cheerleader?"

The night before, we hadn't had time to talk about me at all. Which I was thankful for. Thinking of my life reminded me that I no longer had it. Family. Friends. Job. Everything I'd worked for. If I started down that road, I'd fixate. I doubt I'd be able to function. "No." I bit my lip before admitting, "Soccer." Before he could comment, I hurried to add, "I was terrible. I was only allowed on the team so they'd have enough players." I grimaced. "I can kick well enough, but only so long as the ball isn't moving. And no one's running at me. And I'm not running."

Stefan dipped his head to try and hide his grin. I found a patch of dirt fascinating. I dug a toe in. "Anyway," I nodded to the team. "I see you're not on the field."

"Too big a chance I'd be revealed." Stefan watched the team practicing for a moment before adding, "I'm surprised I'd even consider it, let alone try out."

"I think you wanted to impress Elena. Make her happy." I remembered. "And you ended up bonding with Matt."

He glanced aside, towards the figures hustling across the field. "Elena's ex?"

"He's a good guy," I defended.

Stefan looked back. "There's other ways to make friends."

Sure, but none so quick as bonding on a team. Ah, well. I wasn't going to worry about Stefan socializing enough.

"I didn't come just to watch you at practice," Stefan said, pulling me from my thoughts. "I thought we could go back to my place." He held up a familiar leather-bound journal. "Figure a few things out."

I swept the back of my hand over my slick brow. "I don't know, Stefan," I said, nose crinkling. "Jenna probably noticed that I never came home last night."

"I'll have you back before late afternoon," Stefan assured.

I considered it. Eventually, I nodded. "Okay." I glanced in the direction of the parking lot, blowing a piece of loose hair out of my mouth as the breeze kicked up. "Did you come in a car or…?"

"Or," Stefan said with a self-effacing grin. "Mind giving me a ride?"

I shook my head. "Let me get changed." I would've liked a shower, but that would have to wait.

Standing, Stefan slid his hands into his pockets. "I'll be outside the dressing room."

Changing didn't take long. Stefan was leaning back against the wall outside the locker rooms. We fell into step, his longer legs adjusting their pace to accommodate Elena's shorter stride.

"Will you talk to Damon?" I asked, stepping from the sidewalk onto the parking lot's blacktop with a tap of my sneakers.

Stefan rolled his shoulders high. "I can try." His tone suggested he didn't have much hope of getting very far.

"I suppose I'll have to go over it all again," I sighed.

He kept his eyes on the pavement. "Damon's in denial."

We reached the SUV. I unlocked the door and climbed in. Stefan followed a moment after. Placing my bag in the back, I paused before settling in my seat. "Why aren't you?"

Stefan met my stare. "Why should I be?"

I arched a brow. "It's nuts?"

"Exactly," he agreed, lip curling every-so-slightly upward.

I held his gaze for another moment. Facing forward, I started the car. "Maybe I'm an outrageous liar."

"Those stories you told me. About growing up."

Foot on the brake, I paused.

"Were they true?"

I stared out the window before forcing myself to check the rearview mirror. "Yes." I eased out, shifting into drive. "Different names. Caroline and Bonnie wouldn't know about anything I told you."

"I'm sorry."

I focused on cruising down the lane and turning into traffic. "What's done is done."

"That doesn't make it any less unfair." I felt him watching. For what, I wasn't sure.

I exhaled. "I can't think about that, Stefan," I admitted, grip tightening on the wheel. "If I start, I won't stop."

"Okay."

An uneasy silence filled the car. Flashes of my life kept creeping up on me. I tried to focus on the road.

Still, I felt I owed him something for his faith. "Heather and Erica."

"Hm?"

"My best friends. Their names." I cleared my throat, blinking back the tears that threatened to blur my vision.

The quiet became a little lighter.

"Charles," Stefan said a little later.

I glanced at him. "A friend?"

He nodded. "His parents were sharecroppers. They farmed a section of land a few miles from the main house. We were about the same age, so his mother tutored us together."

"What happened to him?"

Stefan traced his hand along the dash. "I don't know. After I turned, I stayed far away from him." He looked out the window.

"I bet City Hall has records."

"Death certificates."

I realized his point and made a non-committal hum. Thinking of the friends and family I left behind, I wondered, "How do you do it? Live on past everyone you know?"

Stefan's brow furrowed. "Honestly?" At my nod, he said, "Don't get attached." He looked at me. "Otherwise, you move forward, one day at a time. Until you learn how to live without them." He stared back out the window. "No other choice."

If that wasn't the loneliest thing I'd ever heard, I wasn't sure what was.

We passed through the rest of Mystic Falls in silence.

* * *

The boarding house was quiet as Stefan led me through the front door to the library. I shrugged off my jacket, mildly startled when Stefan took it. I ignored the buzz of pleasure the old-fashioned move engendered in me. "Where's Zach?"

Hands still holding onto my jacket, Stefan paused by the coatrack in the hall. "Downstairs," he said, a frown in his voice. Before I could ask what he was doing in the basement, Stefan had left.

I wandered down the steps further into the room. Several pictures sat on the various tables spread out across the room. I took up one beside the sofa nearest the fireplace. The picture was old, early nineteen hundreds, at least. A portrait of a man stared back at me. He was clean shaven, dark hair arrayed in the style of the day. His eyes looked lightly colored, possibly blue, though the photograph was sepia toned and impossible to say for sure. There was something in the shape of his jaw and eyes that reminded me vaguely of Damon.

A pair of footsteps sounded outside the still-open door. Setting the photo down, I wandered towards the entrance.

"—going down there," Stefan said.

"He needs food. Water. Changing the bucket." My nose crinkled as I realized why Zach would have to change a bucket. "We can't lock him up and ignore him."

"I'm not suggesting that." A touch of impatience entered Stefan's voice. "I told you. I'd take care of it." There was a beat of silence before he added, "Or don't you trust me?"

Another poignant moment passed. "Of course, Uncle Stefan."

A wry Stefan replied, "It's fine, Zach. Probably wise not to. But do me a favor and stay away from the cells."

"Whatever you say." Zach wasn't pleased.

"It's only for another day or two," Stefan assured him.

As their voices drew nearer, I returned to the side table with the mystery descendant's photo. I sat on the end of the sofa as Stefan appeared. Zach wasn't with him.

"Sorry." Stefan jogged down the steps and joined me at the couch.

"Something wrong?"

Stefan sat on the edge of the opposite end. "I found Zach speaking with John."

"What about?"

"I'm not sure. They quieted when I reached the stairs." He frowned. "Actually, Zach did. John said hello."

That didn't sound like John. "Weird."

Stefan twisted slightly to face me. "The vervain should be out of his system in a few days."

"Then we'll have one less thing to worry about."

"Speaking of," Stefan said, leaning forward. "Do we have the time to be worrying about Katherine?"

The question startled the huff of a laugh from me. "Stefan, we're _way_ ahead of schedule."

His frown deepened.

"We have the time to reassure Damon." I reached down and undid the laces on my sneakers. "The sooner he accepts Katherine left him long ago, the sooner he'll start looking for a new purpose. This town," I finished as I slipped my feet free. I would have been worried about the smell after practice, but was too enamored with the idea of getting off my feet altogether.

"The town," Stefan repeated, doubt slowing his words. The same doubt made his stare all the weightier.

"Yes. The town." I wasn't Elena. I was under no illusions of that. "What we need to be ready for is Esther."

Pulling my feet up until I was sitting cross legged, I reclined against the arm of the sofa. Stefan was still leaning forward, elbows planted on his knees, hands folded. "It doesn't sound as if the Original family is safe to deal with."

"So long as we give them what they want, they'll be reasonable." I thought for a second before amending, "Well, Kol and Rebekah might be problems. But they don't have to be involved."

Stefan's gaze hardened. "What they want leads to your death."

I was already dead—but pointing it out wouldn't help my cause. "Elijah has a way around that." Maybe. I left that part out, too. Stefan had a real save-the-damsel complex. "And Klaus will have a powerful reason to make sure I survive."

"Turning you into his human blood bag."

"I'm more worried about you," I said, hoping to change the subject. "Klaus wants the Ripper back."

Stefan peered across the room towards the bookshelves. I doubt he really saw any of the titles, though. "It sounds like I don't have much choice."

"Then you know where I'm coming from."

I found myself fixed in his sights before Stefan rubbed his brow. "You have no idea when Katherine comes back."

"No. Isobel and John were her agents. But I wouldn't be surprised if she pops up sooner rather than later." It seemed to be the way things were going lately.

He nodded. "She might send more to test the waters." He leaned back. "You're sure an alliance with the Originals is feasible?"

"One with Elijah is. So long as it doesn't threaten his family. Since we're offering to help protect it, it's all but a guarantee." That much I was sure of, at least. "Klaus is a wildcard. I think he can be persuaded. My compliance and knowledge in exchange for his help—it's a good bargain." I was prepared to tell him my name if it came down to it. Klaus would like to have that extra bit of insurance hanging like the sword of Damocles over my neck. He had to feel in control. "We need their near invulnerability and strength."

"Near," Stefan muttered, mouth thinning.

"Let's just focus on the tomb for now."

"One thing at a time?"

I didn't think, with all that was coming, we could afford to do it any other way. Too many chances for something to go wrong. Too large a chance I'd forget some detail. "Getting your brother to stop plotting against you will go a long way towards helping."

We spent another hour sketching out ideas. Solidifying our plans for opening the tomb. Who to contact first between Elijah and Klaus. How to get word to them. How much to reveal. We tried to come up with ways Esther might interfere.

As supper time neared, I said goodbye to Stefan and—after collecting my jacket and being escorted to the door—returned to Elena's.

I managed to beat Jenna and Jeremy, which I supposed meant it was my turn to cook. Thanks to a seasoning packet and shells I found tucked in a cupboard, I ended up making tacos using the vegetables John had prepped that morning. Eating a lone dinner, all the leftovers went back in the fridge.

I was vegging in front of the television when the front door opened. Following after the clomping footsteps, I found Jeremy in the kitchen grabbing a box of cereal. "Tacos in the fridge."

Jeremy rerouted. He didn't bother with the microwave, just shoved the meat straight in the shell and loaded it with hot sauce. My nose wrinkled as he bit in. I caught a glimpse of his eyes as he fixed his second. Red, glazed, and half-closed. I had a feeling I'd smell something distinctly herbal if I were to get close enough to catch a whiff of his hoodie.

"Uncle John left."

Jeremy frowned but shoved the last of his second taco in his mouth rather than answer. He immediately started making his third.

"Leave some for Jenna," I said.

Jeremy gave a thumbs up. I left him to it.

I filled the rest of my evening with homework until fatigue dragged my concentration too far down to focus.

That afternoon was the first time since appearing in this crazy world that I hadn't woken up drenched in sweat and terrorized from some forgotten nightmare. I hoped this was a new trend to be repeated.

And then the light died.

* * *

I jolted awake to find a man leaning over the bed.

I gasped and drew in a breath to scream. The bedside lamp clicked on. "Damon!"

"Hello Not-Elena," he said, belly flopping down at the foot of the bed.

My stomach plunged. "What are you doing?" I hissed.

"Mm," Damon hummed, grabbing hold of a pillow and making himself at home. "Charm. In pocket."

I eyed him with naked skepticism.

He huffed before pulling something out of his front jean pocket and tossing it towards me. "There," he muttered before burying his head in the pillow.

It was a small bracelet of woven leather. I caught a glimpse of writing on the inside of the leather strips with what looked like a sharpie. Literal charms had been woven into the twining straps. Beads that I realized were carved from different crystals. Lavender amethysts, sea green turquoise, rose quartz, and tiger's eye. Interspersed were small metal discs, each one etched with a different symbol inside of it.

It was beautiful.

"It's acts as some kind of restraining order for ghosts," Damon said as I fastened it around my wrist, turning it this way and that to see the light gleam off the beads. "Smaller range," he amended. "'Round a few hundred feet."

"And there were no… issues?"

One of Damon's eyes cracked open. "Like what?"

I guessed Bree was still alive. Good. "Nothing." Damon's one-eyed stare narrowed, but he shut his eye again before questioning me about it. "What are you doing?"

"Sleeping," he mumbled.

"You can't sleep here, Damon." I was about to push him off the bed with my feet, then thought better of it.

"Mph," he mumbled into the pillow. "Long drive. Tired." He started shucking his jacket. Twin thumps hitting the floor said he'd toed off his shoes.

"Damon," I began, using my most commanding tone, "I mean it."

"Fake-lena," he sighed, "I drove fourteen hours to ensure your spirit stalker couldn't haunt you." He tossed his jacket off the side of the bed. "At least let me get in a few hours before I fall asleep at the wheel."

"Do vampires even need sleep?"

"If this show of yours followed my life, I know you saw a bed." Damon snuggled down. "Now shhh. Sleeping."

"It wasn't just _your_ life." He didn't respond. With a disgusted sigh, I threw back the covers and grabbed my pillow, marching to the door.

He turned his head to follow me. "Where are you going?"

"To the guest bedroom." I realized its bed probably already had a pillow. I kept hold of mine anyway.

Damon muttered, "Don't be a child." His eye opened. "You're not a child, are you?"

"I'm tempted to say yes so you'll leave me alone."

He nodded to himself. "Didn't think so."

"First of all, I don't sleep with men who threaten others get my compliance." Damon shut his eye and flopped a hand against the mattress. "Second, I don't get involved with men who are in love with other women." Damon shrugged. I ground my teeth. "Third, and most importantly, this isn't my body."

"Finders keepers," Damon replied into the pillow.

"Okay, that's a five-year-old's logic." I opened the door.

A large pale hand pushed it shut. An annoyed vampire stared down with tired eyes. "Fine. I'll go." His brows rose. "But if something terrible happens on the way, I want you to know—" he leaned in, "you are _completely_ responsible for it."

I pushed him in the direction of the window. "Good _night_, Damon."

"Good night, Not-Elena. And you're welcome." He was gone in a flutter of curtains.

Walking back around to my bed, I saw his shoes and jacket gone, too. I shivered and went to back to bed wondering just how fast he could move.

* * *

The next morning, I felt better than I had in days. No pulse pounding terror or sweat-soaked sheets. Then I remembered it was game day.

I didn't bother with the cheer uniform. Thankfully, Damon didn't know anything about it when he picked me up that morning. I was certain I'd never hear the end of it if he did.

At school, I could see the relief on Caroline's face all the way from the parking lot. "Oh, thank god," she said as I approached.

I went straight to the point. "I'm quitting."

Caroline didn't even bother to put on a show of disappointment. "I had no idea how I was going to drop you from the squad."

I hiked my bag further up my shoulder. "Problem solved."

"Who would've thought missing one summer of cheer camp would make you so bad," Caroline went on.

"Yeah. Go figure." I spotted a familiar figure with his stupidly handsome little smile sitting on his favorite table. "Oh, look. There's Stefan. I'm going to go say hi."

Caroline looked as if she had more to say about my suddenly abysmal cheer abilities, but I rushed off as fast as I dared without making it look like I was running away. I mean, I was, but I didn't want her to know that. Stefan's small smile unfurled into a full grin as I neared him.

"Morning," he greeted, eyes gleaming.

I huffed. "You heard that." Despite being too far away. For a human, I supposed.

Stefan lowered his head a bit. "I did." He glanced over. "I think you made a wise decision."

"Uh huh."

"There are lots of alternative after school activities." The gleam in his eyes took on an amused tint. "Maybe Mystic Falls can start a soccer team."

I scowled. "I know where you sleep, Salvatore."

I felt ridiculously proud when he chuckled. The sound of it made my skin tingle and grow warm all at once.

The rest of the day passed like the others. Bonnie was definitely avoiding me, but the memory of Sheila's face just before Stefan killed her made me grateful for the fact. I had no idea how to talk to her as if everything was normal. Had Sheila's absence had been noted by now? I wondered what Damon had done with her, and then decided I was better off not knowing.

The murmurs of the other students were, weirdly, becoming familiar as well. Now the topic was Elena quitting the squad. I was learning how to tune it out. Why these people cared so much about what one girl was up to baffled me.

What's more, I began to suspect the rest of Elena's friends at lunch were beginning to freeze her out. They asked less questions, didn't bother trying to include me in conversation. I couldn't really blame them. I'd been so worried about saying the wrong thing, I'd been saying very little at all. They were learning to ignore me.

It was enough to make me glad to hear Damon's camaro for once. I hurried into the passenger seat without even token resistance.

Head down as I buckled the seat belt, I didn't realize anyone else had approached until the back door creaked open.

"What are you doing?" Damon drawled.

My head was up and around in time to see Stefan slide into the back seat. "Getting a ride from my brother."

"Get out," he said with a perfectly pleasant tone while grinning. There was an edge to the way he held himself, though, that made my stomach drop. He was too still, like a panther getting ready to pounce.

"We need to plan, Damon," Stefan said, tone staying reasonable. He nodded to me. "We can do that back at the house."

"What's to plan?" Damon asked, still in his faux pleasant mien. "We get the crystal, I call the witch, we open the tomb." His sunglasses tilted down as he lowered his chin. "Besides, haven't you been feeding on Bambi blood? You can run home."

"Just drive," Stefan replied archly, settling back in the seat.

Damon stared for several more seconds before another fake smile flickered on his face as he turned back around. "You really ought to get that engine looked at, brother."

Stefan hummed as he watched the other cars glide by.

An awkward silence brewed under the rush of wind as the camaro sped through the streets. With my hair down, it fluttered and whipped all over. The sky was clear and bright, the trees sparkled as sunlight peeked between their leaves. The further towards Wickery Bridge, the fewer houses we passed, until it was just woodland.

It was a beautiful Virginia day.

If it weren't for the two vampires determined not to interact in close quarters, it'd been a lovely ride. As it was, by the time Damon pulled into the garage, I swept the hair out of my face and exited as soon as the car stilled. Shutting the door with my hip, I attempted to tame Elena's hair with my fingers, using the side mirror to judge my success.

Thankfully, Elena lacked the naturally wavy hair I'd had. It was far more forgiving and fell more or less back into place with a minimum of fuss. As a lifelong owner of a certifiable tangled mess whenever the slightest breeze kicked up, I hated her. Staring at the big brown eyes in the reflection, I wondered if I'd ever get used to seeing her face staring back at me. Or how long I'd have before Elena found a way to kick me out for good.

Hopefully not before Esther lost the means to cast her spell and kill the Originals.

Assuring myself that's what I was here to figure out how to stop, I straightened up and found the brothers waiting for me to finish primping. Fighting to keep the slight flush at the back of my neck from spreading any higher, I forced a tight-lipped smile and hurried over.

While Stefan immediately took my jacket at the door, Damon strode straight the library. I waited while Stefan finished hanging our jackets up and dropped his bag off on a small bench pressed against the entryway wall before following Damon.

"What's amazing," Damon started from the wet bar as he poured himself a generous drink, "is that you think I care about any of this."

Stefan folded his arms, his dark t-shirt giving an impressive view of his biceps. "You should. You're involved."

"I'm not convinced Fake-lena is on the level."

I hesitated next to the sofa. "I'm right here."

Damon's eyes flashed towards me as he picked up his drink. "What? Would you prefer I talk about you behind your back?" he asked as he wandered around the bar. "I want in the tomb. That's it. The rest," he waved his glass between the Stefan and I, "you two can figure out."

Brows pinched low, Stefan ambled down the steps. "You don't want to know anything about what's coming?"

"Big nasty witch who wants to do some spell on the first vampires and kill us all," Damon replied as he sat on the arm of the sofa. "Sounds like a fairy tale."

"It's true," I insisted.

"We'll see," Damon replied, lifting his drink and taking a sip. Before Stefan or I could get in another word, his attention flitted to the door. "Hello, Zach."

The front door drifted closed with a click. The rustle of plastic announced Zach before the tallest Salvatore appeared in the doorway holding several grocery bags. "I was about to make dinner."

"Thank you, Zach," Stefan replied, still staring with furrowed brows at a smirking Damon.

"Will Elena be staying over?"

"Oh, um—"

"Of course." Damon's smirk twisted higher.

Lips thinning, I fixed Damon with an unamused side-eye. "Only if it isn't any trouble."

"It's no trouble, is it, Zach?" Damon was the picture of pleasant courtesy. I didn't buy it for a second.

But Zach shook his head. "No." He lifted the bags a little higher. "But I'd better get started."

"You're not going to take any of this seriously, are you?" Stefan immediately asked as soon as Zach left, diving back in headfirst.

"Nope."

Feeling a familiar pressure, I stood up. "Mind if I use your restroom?"

The way the conversation was going, I doubt I'd miss anything important, anyway.

"No. Of course not." Stefan moved off the stairs. "Down the hall, third door on the right."

"Thanks."

Stefan nodded as I passed.

Back in the main hall, I could hear the sound of rustling plastic from the kitchen across the way. Passing it and the main staircase, my sights roamed over the artwork on the paneled walls. The old-fashioned light fixtures that had probably once been set up for candles before being converted to electric lights.

The bathroom was as sumptuously decorated. Ornate mirror over a standing sink. A toilet that looked like it was from an earlier century. No tub or shower. Those must have been kept to the rooms upstairs.

After washing my hands, I was about to join the brothers back in the sitting room when the sight of a door near the staircase caught my eye. I thought it looked somewhat familiar from the show. Curiosity overcoming my manners, I slowly pulled it open and found stairs leading down. It must have been the way to the basement.

John was down there.

I thought of his odd behavior the day before. Why had he taken off the family ring? Or didn't seem at all disappointed to see me and not his daughter? And with Damon here, was he being treated humanely?

The questions nagged at me enough that I found myself sneaking down the first step, and then the second, so on and so forth until I reached the bottom.

The basement didn't start out looking like a dungeon, not with normal finished walls and a concrete floor. It was a large space, but one stuffed with furniture and antiquities. Following the room to a door across from the staircase, going through finally led me to the more… iffy portion of the basement.

Here the older foundation of the boarding house could be found in the exposed brickwork and a narrower hall. The cells were immediately visible. Huge wooden doors with barred windows, like something out of an old movie.

Mindful that Damon and Stefan would probably discover what I was up to within minutes, I stepped up to the first cell door and peeked through the bars.

Pressed into the corner of the cell, John's head leaned all the way back as both eyes fixed on the ceiling. He was dressed in a plain button-down shirt and pair of dark slacks, the same clothes from the day before. Every muscle was relaxed. If it weren't for the brick walls and dirt floor, I wouldn't have guessed he was a prisoner.

I was about to slip away when his eyes rolled down. "Elena." He smiled, sat straighter. That stare fixed itself on me, now. "E-lay-nah." He folded his hands. His ring was still missing. "Pretty name, isn't it? Do you like it?"

I looked back towards the open door and the storage room beyond. "I guess."

"That's good. Since it'll be yours from now on." The tap of shoes scraping against the dirt drew my gaze. "I'm glad you came to see me."

I moved back a step. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

His grin widened. "For a man who tried to banish you?"

Yeah. It sounded stupid when put like that. I grimaced. "I guess it's a perfect duty."

"Mills," he said, delighted. For some odd reason. "You know philosophy."

"A semester of it." I'd taken the intro course mostly out of vague curiosity. Well, that, and as a freshman having felt insecure enough to want the intellectual bragging rights. Which turned out to be incredibly ironic, because all philosophy did was make me feel like an idiot. Long dead white men pontificating on the nature of things does not make for an easy or entertaining read.

"So, tell me," he shifted his weight, leaned nearer the door, "what did you learn about Hell?"

Okay. Talk about your light conversation topics.

"It was introductory philosophy. We didn't delve deep into the theological stuff." And I was done with it by then.

"You must have thoughts. An interpretation," he insisted.

I guess it was a subject I should give graver consideration. Considering. "I don't know. I suppose there's the classic lake of fire. A realm made of your worst nightmares. Dante's circles." I thought for a moment. "I guess the one I've always gone with is the absence of God."

John's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. "Yes! For what is God, if not everything? And in the absence, nothing." A fervor entered his eyes. "No up or down. No hot or cold. Long or short. Never or always. Not even pleasure or pain. Just-" he gestured all around the cell with his hands, "being. And nothing."

I eyed him. "That would—qualify. Sure."

He stood, strode to the door. A hand curled around the bar. "Now, imagine this. Existing in nothing. Not even time, because there's no way to mark it. It's eternal and yet never was."

"I don't think I can," I said slowly.

"No, I suppose not." His head tilted. "That's good, isn't it?"

I'd say so. What he described sounded like a sensory deprivation chamber, and those were supposed to drive people to hallucinate if left in long enough. Who knows what being stuck in one 'without time' might do.

"But what would such a pitiful being think when, out of nothing, comes _something_." He turned rapturous in his intensity. "Something wonderous. So bright that, for the first instant in an existence that never knew time, the darkness was chased away by this—this star."

Unable to imagine it, I stuck to reason. "It'd probably be overwhelming."

"Inadequate," he insisted, fervent as a snake handling preacher. "It'd be everything, wouldn't it, Elena? Everything it had ever known, and for the first moment, would ever know."

Yeah. He was nuts. "Uh huh."

Some of the brightness dimmed. Shoulders slumping, John looked aside with a bitter smile. "This… is…" he shut his eyes. He swallowed hard, smile turning euphoric. His neck began to flush, while his hand squeezed the bar.

My stomach turned. Feeling oddly voyeuristic, I stepped aside. "I'm… going to go."

"NO!"

His hand shot out. I jumped back, startled. I needn't have. I'd been far enough from the bars that I was well out of his reach, but seeing his hand appear before my face… not fun. I eyed him again, taking another step back.

"Don't go, Elena," he pleaded, eyes wide and beseeching. "Please. Please don't go."

"But visiting hours are over." For once, the sound of Damon's voice brought relief. He draped an arm over my shoulders. "She'll have to come back, oh," his eyes narrowed, "never."

John's hand retracted, slow and steady. A grin filled his face. "We'll see."

"Hmm." Damon gave a crinkled eye smile back. He then guided me down the hall and towards the stairs. "Say bye-bye to Uncle John."

I shot an uneasy gaze behind me. "I'm not sure that was Johnathan Gilbert."

Back through the antique room, he dropped his arm as we reached the stairs. He fell behind to let me go up first. "Well, if not dear ol' Uncle John, who do we have locked in our basement, Not-Elena."

"Not-John."

He snorted. "How many of you body snatchers from outer space are there?"

I glared at the top of the stairs, only to be met by that stupid smirking face. "I'm not from outer space. I'm from another dimension."

"Yeah, because that's so much better," Damon shot back as he passed. "Come on then. Before Stefan spontaneously combusts from worry."

I blew out a breath and followed Damon towards the sitting room.

A scream halted us both in our tracks.

Damon disappeared. Left gaping in the middle of the hallway, I hurried off in the direction I thought I heard the shout come from. The kitchen.

I didn't have time to take in details beyond the impression of a large dining room table off to one side and a long counter to the other. I did notice the small island stove to separate it from the rest of the room. Mostly because it was lit, with a pot and several pans on top.

Zach was over a sink in the center of the counter, Stefan and Damon to either side of him, supporting him. Several blood-soaked towels hung off the sink's edge. Another was wrapped up to Zach's elbow.

"Elena, stay back," Stefan half-called half-snarled, veins bulging around his eyes.

Zach had more blood smeared over his mouth, the two holding his hand over the sink. "It hurts," he said, voice airy and weak.

Damon carefully unwrapped the towel. What he saw made his eyes narrow and his nose wrinkle. "Mm. Yeah. He's going to need a doctor."

"I fed him my blood."

"Don't think that's gonna grow them back, Stef," Damon countered.

I walked further into the room, over to a pan that was starting to smoke. Grabbing an oven mitt, I made to pick it off the flame and turn the rest off. Then I glanced down.

At first, all I noticed was a mix of sautéed vegetables and chopped meats. Then I saw them. Small and round, burnt on one side, they looked a bit like mini sausages. Except for the nails. "Oh my god," I breathed, recoiling back into Damon. At the sour taste and the pressure in my throat, I hastened to cover my mouth.

Damon twisted to look over my shoulder. "Huh. Never seen that before."

Stefan glanced at us and asked, "What?" but from the wary look on his face, he probably already suspected.

Damon said it anyway. "Three guesses as to tonight's mystery meat, Stefan."

I couldn't swallow it back anymore. I raced to the wastebasket at the end of the counter and discovered Elena's body experienced the same lightheadedness that I'd always felt when vomiting.

I heard Damon click his tongue.

"What the hell, Zach?" Stefan asked.

"I wanted to see if it would hurt."

Despite still feeling sick, I was so taken aback I had to look up through watery eyes at Zach. We all stared, dumbstruck. Even Damon.

Though he didn't stay speechless for long. "Right." Damon moved the pan off the stove. "Cooking privileges revoked. Forever." He let the pan fall onto the countertop with a clatter.

Stefan shook his head. His veins had at least started to recede at the shock. He wrapped another towel around Zach's hand.

Dinner was forgotten by everyone without ever needing to discuss it. Damon and I spent the rest of the afternoon into early evening cleaning the kitchen while Stefan saw to Zach. Damon offered to take me home, but I didn't want to leave when things got tough and bloody. I'd be running regularly from the Salvatore house—and the Gilbert house, and the high school, and the town—if I did that.

Instead, while he took care of the pan from hell, I did my best to wipe up the blood. And I had to clean it up well enough that Stefan wouldn't smell it whenever he got near the kitchen. I used a lot of bleach.

I'd just finished up and moved back to the library with Damon for a much-needed glass of his five-hundred-dollar tequila when the front bell chimed. He pushed himself off the sofa with a, "Be a minute," to me before hurrying to answer. I reclined, looking into the lit fire. Glass rubbing back and forth against my forehead, I wondered what the hell had happened to Zach. Damon and Stefan both thought he'd been compelled by Anna as a warning, but I couldn't figure out why Anna would do that. I was mulling it over when footsteps approached.

"Elena."

"Jenna?" Hastily lowering my glass, I turned to stare over the sofa and found Jenna in the doorway, Damon lingering behind her. Lips pressed into a thin frown, she wore the most serious expression I'd ever seen on her face. In person, at least. I immediately wondered if she knew that John was here. From Damon's crazy eyes just behind her, I realized he was thinking the same thing. Not good for Jenna. Frantic, I blurted, "Stefan and I were just studying—"

She interrupted with, "Tyler Lockwood's in the hospital and Jeremy's been arrested. For assault."


	12. Twelve

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** There's legal discussions/matters in this chapter. I should clarify that I'm not a lawyer, have no legal training, have never dealt with criminal court proceedings—adult or juvenile—and basically filled this section out based on what I could garner from some online research. Which you shouldn't do if you need legal advice. tl;dr Don't get your legal facts/advice from fanfic. Especially my fanfic.

As always, I'm grateful for your reviews, follows, and favorites. Thank you!

**Chapter Twelve**

Mystic Falls' local jail was nothing more than the basement of the police station. Jenna and I had to sit on a bench outside a series of small interrogation rooms to wait for our chance to visit Jeremy. We'd already spied him, dressed in a light blue jumpsuit, being led by Sheriff Forbes herself from the elevator towards a room that was apparently set up for lawyers and their criminal clients. Jeremy had taken one glimpse at us and hung his head, hair swinging forward to hide his face.

Maria Miller, the attorney from Charlottesville Jenna had hired early this morning, arrived shortly after. She was a short woman—the top of her head barely came up to Elena's shoulder—who seemed to make up for her lack of stature with an authoritative presence. She marched rather than walked, shoulders thrown so far back it was a wonder her back didn't curve the wrong way. She'd greeted Jenna and I before following Sheriff Forbes, who knew her by name, into the room Jeremy had disappeared into. Liz assured us we'd be able to visit with Jeremy for at least an hour as soon as he was done with counsel.

"You picked a real good attorney, Jenna," Liz said. "Maria's gotten better deals than I think some of her clients deserved. In this case, I'm glad she'll be representing Jeremy."

"That's good to know," Jenna replied, still pale and wan from her meeting with Miller this morning. "She's going to talk to me as soon as she's done with Jer, but do you know when we can expect him to see a judge?"

"Well, it's hard to say for sure. But the docket isn't too busy. Should be within a few days."

"Thanks, Liz."

"No problem." She looked as if she wanted to say more, but just settled for a tight smile. "You two hang in there."

We waited for another hour before Miller marched out. She caught sight of Jenna and came straight over.

Jenna stood up as she closed in, and I followed Jenna's lead. "Thank you for coming," she said.

"It's my job," Miller replied. Sharp brown eyes turned to me. She held out a hand. "You must be Elena, Jeremy's sister."

No, but, "Yeah." My hold was considerably softer than hers as we shook. "Is Jeremy going to get to come home?"

"I was about to discuss that with your aunt," she replied diplomatically. Right.

"Elena, will you go get me a coke?" Jenna asked, digging a five out of her purse. "And whatever you'd like to drink," she added as she handed it over.

I guessed this was attorney, client, and client's guardian talk only. "Sure, Jenna." I took the five, gave a smile. "It was nice to meet you."

"You too."

I wandered off down the hall, hoping I'd find a vending machine sooner rather than later.

I followed the distant tap-tap of fingers on keyboards. It sounded so much like an office, a wave of homesickness flew over me. Biting the inside of my cheek, I soon found myself at the center of what must've been the sheriff station.

It was a large room with rows of desks to either side. A computer monitor sat on each on, each the same model a few years older than the year the show had started in. Tall file cabinets lined the walls between the windows. A few of the desks were manned, men and a few women sorting through files or tapping away at their keyboards.

No sign of a vending machine.

Uncertain what to do, I turned to make my way back down the hallway. I figured I'd wait for a half hour before checking to see if Jenna and the attorney were finished when I nearly ran into Caroline's mom.

"Elena." Sharp eyes ran over me. "Lost?" she deduced.

I gave a sheepish smile and hoped the police station wasn't a place Elena had spent a lot of time. "Looking for the vending machine."

"In the break room." Liz led me further through the station to a small room off the side of the hall.

The break room was less than a couple of tables, a handful of folding chairs for each, and a line of counters against the far wall with a coffee machine and a toaster. But it did feature a couple of vending machines. One for drinks and the other for snacks. "Thanks."

"Sure."

Using Jenna's five, I wondered if it was a coke she actually wanted. Seemed like everyone around here called soda 'coke.' Giving a mental shrug, I got what she asked for.

"Caroline tells me you quit the squad."

She did? I was surprised. I thought Caroline and her mother rarely spoke. "Yeah." I picked an apple juice for myself and turned after collecting it from the tray. "I'm just—not as interested in it anymore, I guess."

Liz hmmed. "That's to be expected. You start to grow up, things that were once so important seem almost silly in hindsight."

"Yeah." I set the coke on the table. "Do you mind if I sit in here for ten or twenty minutes?"

"Give your aunt and Maria time to talk?" Liz smiled. "Sure Elena." She nodded out the door. "Just ask a deputy if you need anything. Or come find me. I'll be in my office."

"Alright. Thanks." I wasn't sure what Elena called Caroline's mom, so I settled for a smile.

I sat sipping my juice, listening to Mystic Fall's finest filing cases and typing up reports. I wondered how many of Liz's deputies knew about vampires. All of them? Was it some secret they told you when they passed out the badges? 'Welcome to the force, here's your shield, your gun, and—oh yeah—vampires are occasionally a thing around here. So, y'know. Good luck with that!'

Once I'd drank half my juice, I got up and walked back through the main office and down the hall to the interrogation rooms. I found Jenna waiting alone by the bench. I held out her coke as I walked up and pretended not to notice her glistening eyes. "What she say?"

She sighed. "It's not good." She took the bottle out of my hand and frowned. "If it were just assault, because Tyler was as involved, they might have given him probation." She blinked several times. "But since he picked up a broken bottle, that makes it aggravated assault. And Tyler was hurt." Jenna shook her head. "It could be years, Elena."

I picked at the label on my bottle, what juice I'd already drunk churning sourly in my stomach. "Could be?"

"She's going use the fact Jeremy's never even visited the principal's office to try and get it down to a year. She thinks that with good behavior, Jeremy could be home in six months. That's best case."

Six months. Best case. I drew in a deep breath, but had no idea what to say, so I just nodded.

"On the positive side," Jenna smiled, "there's no bail for juveniles, so Jeremy could be home as soon as he gets his first hearing." She frowned. "He'll probably have to wear an ankle bracelet."

"That's good, though. Isn't it?"

"Better than the alternative," Jenna sighed again. "Come on. Let's see him," she said, standing.

The meeting room was pretty much that. A small space the size of a couple of closets plus a table. A narrow window no bigger than an old fashioned mail slot, complete with bars, was situated near the ceiling to let in light. Otherwise, a fan turned overhead.

Jeremy looked away as we walked in, his face fixed towards the window. Even from the side, with his low-hanging hair, I could see the swollen skin around his jaw, cheek, and eyes that was just starting to turn a jaundice yellow. Tyler must have gotten him more than a few times.

"Hi, Jer," Jenna said, trying to sound happy.

Jeremy's shoulders twitched. Finally glancing our way, he stared at us beneath overlong bangs. I smiled.

He sighed. "Hey."

We sat down. The resulting silence let me hear every creak of the plastic chairs and the humming swish of the fan whirling overhead.

"Are you okay?" Jenna asked, sights glued on his face.

"Yeah." Jeremy ran a hand through his hair.

"You're—everything is okay? I mean, you have enough to eat?"

Jeremy snorted. "It's jail food, Jenna."

Jenna's shoulders hunched. "Oh. Right."

He grimaced, then winced. "Sorry. It's—I mean, it's not takeout. I'm eating."

Jenna nodded. Another drawn out silence followed before she found something to say. "Did you like your lawyer?"

Jeremy shrugged. "Sure." He fidgeted in his seat.

"She's supposed to be really good."

Jeremy nodded.

Jenna reached halfway across the table, looking as if she was going to try touching his arm, but let her hands fall onto the tabletop. "What happened?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't know."

"You've got to give me a little more than that, Jeremy." A note of anger actually entered Jenna's tone. The first I'd ever heard from her.

Jeremy reached up and poked at the larger bruise covering his jaw. "Tyler was being a dick. Guess I lost it."

"Lost it?" Jenna repeated, slowly. "Why, Jer? You realize you could have killed him, right? You realize the kind of trouble you're in?"

"I don't know why!" He erupted, eyes shining. He blinked wildly, looking down at the hands in his lap. "He was on me, I was on my back. It was the weirdest feeling—like these nightmares I keep having. Of someone on top of me, killing me. I panicked. I thought I was going to die. I got the bottle and, I dunno," Jeremy hunched forward. "I wasn't thinking, okay? It was—it was instinct or something. I don't know."

It was as if someone had injected liquid nitrogen into my veins. I got so cold I had to wring my hands together. Had Damon's attack somehow done something to Jeremy? Turned him violent?

But no, Jeremy would have reached for that bottle either way.

But what had happened… it was still clearly with him. Affecting him.

Jenna blew out a long breath and slumped back in her seat. "Did the lawyer explain everything to you?"

"Yeah." Jeremy ran a hand over his hair, sweeping his bangs back. "She went over it."

"Okay." Jenna tapped the table. "Okay. And you know to call her if the police want to talk to you again, right?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't tell them anything, did you?"

"You think I'm stupid?" Jeremy shot back.

"I don't know, Jer. Look where you're sitting," Jenna answered, just as short.

The fan whirled on overhead. I saw a bird fly by the window.

"I'm sorry," Jenna said softly. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No. Pretty sure I deserve worse," Jeremy replied bitterly.

"With any luck you'll be home in a few days," Jenna went on, ignoring what he'd said. "We'll just—we'll hope for the best. Okay? No sense worrying about a future we can't see coming."

"Hope for the best," I murmured, "prepare for the worst." It was another of my dad's favorite sayings.

Another painful moment of silence followed.

"Did… did Vicki call?" Jeremy asked, breaking the stillness if not the tension.

I glanced over at him. He was looking at me. I shook my head. "Not that I know of."

He seemed to wilt into his seat.

"She could've tried your cell," I offered.

A dark look fell over his face. "Doubt it." As swift as it came, it was replaced by utter dejection. "She's probably with Tyler."

"Let's not even _talk_ about Tyler Lockwood," Jenna all but growled.

That got a flicker of a smile out of Jeremy. "No complaints here."

"Is there anything you need?" I asked.

"Nothing I can have." He rubbed his arm. "If I end up… transferred… maybe."

"Money?" Jenna returned.

He shook his head. "No." He slid further down the seat. "Not here."

"Cigarettes?"

We both stared in shock, but Jenna cracked a little smile.

Jeremy snorted.

From there, we all sat in one of the most awkward silences of my life. It was clear no one had any idea what to say, but Jenna didn't seem inclined to leave. Probably knowing where he'd end up if we did. I alternated between staring out the window and reading the label on my juice.

When Sheriff Forbes knocked on the door, told us that it was time to take Jeremy back, I hate to admit I was relieved. Not that I wanted Jeremy back in his cell, but I wasn't family. Not really. And I didn't know what to say to make the situation any better.

I both appreciated stepping into the morning sunshine and felt guilty about it at the same time.

* * *

Since it was Saturday, Jenna had to wait to make any calls. She did set up an appointment with the bank on Monday. She spent the rest of the morning making plans for pulling enough money together for the attorney's fees. Which wouldn't be cheap. It was obvious she didn't want to dip into the funds set aside for Jeremy and Elena, but being a college student, Jenna didn't have a lot of choice.

"Dammit, John," she muttered, for the tenth time, when he failed to pick up his phone.

I hung around, not certain what I could do to help, but not feeling right about taking off to Elena's room, either. It was my fault this had happened, after all. If Elena—the real Elena—had been there, Stefan would have been there, and—yeah.

So I sat at the table with Jenna, hoping Elena's presence provided some kind of moral support. Dreading whatever was to come next.

Naturally, that's when the doorbell sounded.

"I'll get it," I told Jenna, who nodded gratefully as I got up.

I pulled it open to find Damon on the other side. That didn't surprise me either. Obviously, this universe hates me.

"We're breaking up." Damon announced as soon as he pulled his sunglasses off. "But I want you to know, it's not me, it's you."

The amount of self-absorption on display was kind of awe inspiring, in a screwed-up way. Like coming across a bad car wreck or really messy roadkill. "I don't have time for this." I moved to shut the door.

Damon's hand reached out and grabbed the edge, stopping it cold. "You don't want to know why?"

"No."

"Your fake brother's little stunt has made you persona non grata to the Lockwoods. And I need in that Founder's Ball."

"Wow." I glared. "I'm sorry Elena's troubles have made life so inconvenient for you."

He waved a hand, magnanimously. Like a king absolving his subject. The dick. He then doubled down with, "Who do you think I should ask? Caroline or Bonnie?"

The idea horrified me. "Neither."

"Oh, c'mon Not-Elena. Don't be jealous."

"I'm not," I assured him.

"I promised not to hurt your friends, didn't I?" He leaned his shoulder against the door frame. "I just need a date to get into the Ball. If it makes you feel better, I'm breaking it off right after."

"It doesn't. Because if they agree then they, for some reason, actually like you." Damon arched a brow. I frowned up at him. "And tossing them aside like that would be a dick move."

"I am a dick."

"I know." I glared into those arctic eyes, clear and steady as they were, and refused to blink.

He huffed and shifted his hands into his jacket's pockets. "Fine. I'll compel another date."

"You could try asking," I pointed out. "Unless compulsion is the only way you can get a woman to agree to go out with you."

His side-eye warned me to watch it.

I folded my arms, chin tilting up.

"I'm good," he said, so humbly, "but no one's good enough to convince a woman she's not being used when the opener is, 'Hey! Take me to this exclusive party!'"

"I'm surprised you care if your date knows she's being used."

He shrugged. "I don't. But some women take exception."

"Imagine that," I drawled.

"Right?"

I scowled. "You are a despicable person." I moved to shut the door, hoping he'd take the hint.

His foot slid forward, stopping the door again. Disgusted, I dropped my hand so fast it slapped against my thigh. "What now, Damon?"

His eyes narrowed in another warning before slipping back into his usual devil-may-care attitude. "Bree's on her way up. By the time I have the crystal, we'll be ready to do the ceremony." His eyes widened meaningfully. "Tonight."

This was… so early. It gave me a headache wondering about all the changes. But maybe that was for the best.

Or it was another huge disaster waiting to happen.

"Jenna's convinced she's been screwing up because of Jeremy. I'm doubt she'll be fine with me taking off in the middle of the night."

"I can compel her—"

"No, Damon." I rubbed a hand over my forehead. Was compulsion his answer to every problem? "I'll figure something out."

"You don't have to be there."

But with everything gone so wrong— "There'll be major magical power being channeled. Seems like something Esther might want in on." I held up the bracelet. "This, at least, makes me useful for something."

"Our little ghost repellant," he drawled. "Alright. Stefan or I'll call you when we have the crystal."

"Fine," I sighed.

Damon slipped his sunglasses back on. "See you tonight, Fake-lena."

If not for Jenna, I would have slammed the door in his face.

* * *

I spent the rest of the day alternating between sitting with a depressed Jenna and trying to nap in Elena's room.

"At least we have an excuse to skip the Founder's Ball," Jenna murmured at one point as we channel surfed.

"Not just this party. All the Lockwood events," I reminded her.

She clicked through the next few channels. "Hallelujah."

The next few hours passed under a cloud of melancholy. Every so often Jenna would say, "I just don't get it. He's always been such a sweet kid."

To which I'd say some variation of, "He's going through a rough patch."

"I can't believe he'll have to spend time in Juvenile Detention."

I tried to be positive. "At least he's under eighteen. It'll all be expunged."

Jenna frowned. "Except everyone in town will know." Her eyes were troubled. "Who's going to want to hire him, Elena? And his grades are slipping. Who knows if he'll manage college? Or even want to go." She drew a deep breath and blew it back out. "I screwed up."

"This isn't your fault," I said for the hundredth time.

Jenna's tight-lipped frown told me she didn't believe me this time, either.

We were well into our fourth round of this same conversation when the phone rang.

Jenna answered, but after a few seconds said, "It's for you," and held out the phone to me.

I took the cordless. "Hello?"

"Hey," Stefan greeted.

"Hi." I covered the lower half and mouthed Stefan to Jenna, who nodded, and got up to go to Elena's room. "I thought you'd be at the party by now."

"The Founder's Ball?" he questioned.

"Yeah."

"Can't say it holds any interest for me," he said. "I'll let Damon get his magical crystal."

"But the Founders Council are striking people off the list of possible suspects based on who shows up during the day."

"I think attending high school will be enough to strike my name from their list," he pointed out reasonably. "More importantly, how's Jeremy?"

"He's got bruises and some swelling from the fight, but otherwise he's okay. Physically."

"Yeah." Stefan paused. "Any idea what's going to happen to him?"

"Jeremy attacked Tyler with a deadly weapon, so—the lawyer's not too hopeful the judge will go for probation." I took a breath. "She thinks he'll get a year or two in Juvenile Detention. But he can shave off a few months with good behavior. Six months, best case."

"I'm sorry, Elena." And he sounded it.

"I screwed up," I admitted. "I forgot all about the fight and the fact Jeremy went for a that damn bottle."

"That was his choice, not yours." Stefan replied. "You can't hold yourself responsible for the things other people do, even if you know they're going to do them."

"I could have stopped it."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You're doing what you can, Elena. But you can't be expected to remember every detail."

I blew out a breath. "I still feel like I've failed him. Twice now."

"Maybe this will be good for him," Stefan reasoned. "An opportunity to turn his life back around. Get off drugs."

"Or he'll get worse being around other delinquents," I said, frowning.

"He's a good kid. He'll figure it out." Stefan assured me.

"I hope you're right, Stefan."

The 'me too,' went unspoken. "Damon said you'll be there later tonight." He didn't sound pleased about it.

"I'm worried Esther might be drawn to all that power. Who knows what she'd do. And Elena was there in the show. I'm nervous enough missing out on the party. I don't want to risk anything going wrong at the tomb."

"It'll be dangerous."

"I know." Dozens of desiccated vampires desperate for blood? Dangerous was probably an understatement. "But Anna shouldn't know we're ready. If there's any good to come out of this mess with Jeremy, it's that Anna won't be able to use him." I let out a breath. "As long as I avoid tripping and falling wrist-first into any vampire mouths, I should be fine."

"I'll be going in too."

"But what if something goes wrong with the spell?"

"Then I'll be stuck," Stefan replied matter-of-factly. "I know the risks, Elena. I won't let you go in alone."

"Damon will be there." But from the tepid assurance, and Stefan's poignant silence, I think we were both on the same page as to how much Damon could be counted on.

"If you're going, I'm going. That's my choice." Resolve firmed his declaration.

I looked down. If this was like the show, he should be in there, anyway.

Hopefully any differences, like the barrier coming down, would work in our favor for once.

"Okay. Then all three of us are going inside." I blew out a breath. "Hopefully all three of us come back out."

Stefan hummed an agreement.

When we were done talking, I felt a bit better as I hung up. I was still felt responsible for Jeremy's situation, and nervous about entering the tomb, but at least I had someone in this screwed up world I could count on.

* * *

Damon called a few minutes after sunset. "I've got the crystal. My witch will be here in an hour."

"I'll meet you at the tomb then."

"And we'll see how right you are about the future, Fake-lena," Damon replied with a light-heartedness that chilled my blood before hanging up.

I found Jenna in front of the television, staring but not really watching. "Hey, Jenna?"

"Hmm?"

"Caroline, Bonnie, Stefan, and Matt are heading to the Grill after the party. Is it okay if I meet up with them?"

Jenna turned around. "Alright. But be home by ten."

I had no idea if we'd be done by then. "It might run a little later. And it's a weekend."

Jenna frowned. "Ten, Elena. Please don't make me say no."

"Alright. Ten." I summoned a smile. "Thanks, Jenna."

"It'll be good for you to get out. Just—don't do anything stupid, alright?"

Like traipse through a magical tomb filled with monsters thirsting for my blood? Surely not.

I smiled and nodded, which seemed to appease her. I rushed through the house, snagging my purse and jacket. I made sure my anti-spirit charm was on, despite never taking it off. With a final shouted good-bye to Jenna, I grabbed the keys and loaded into the SUV.

It wasn't until I was out of the driveway and down the street that I realized I had no idea where the ruins of the old Fell church were. "Shit."

* * *

I pulled up to the boarding house hoping Stefan was still inside.

It was Zach who answered the door. "Elena," he said, brows arching in surprise.

I couldn't help but glance down at his hand. It was hidden in his pocket. Realizing how rude that probably was, I hurried to look back up. "Zach. Hey." I forced a smile. "I was wondering if Stefan was around."

Zach frowned but shook his head. "No. He left a few minutes ago."

"Oh." Damn. Considering vampire speed, he was probably halfway to—wherever. "I don't suppose you could help me."

Surprise flashed across his face again. "I can try. What's the problem?"

"The old Fell church? The one that they burned down—"

"I know the story," Zach said.

"Oh, well. I was hoping you'd know where it was."

His brows knit together. "You're going to the tomb tonight, too?"

"You know about that?"

"Not much I don't hear about," Zach said after a moment. "They don't really give a lot of thought to their human servants. Probably because they can always compel us to forget."

Apparently, neither Stefan nor Damon knew about his vervain. I wondered what he'd done to keep it hidden from them, since John was downstairs. "Right."

"Take Grove back to Washington. Follow that ten minutes or so past the town center. Keep an eye out about a mile past Churchwood Way. There's a narrow lane up to an old graveyard nearby. Kind of a local party spot nowadays. There's a path near the old Fell crypt. Follow it till you come to the ruins."

"Okay. Thanks, Zach." I tugged my jacket around me tighter. "I hope you feel better, by the way."

He startled. "I—yes. I do. Thank you." His hand stayed in his pocket. It might make me a coward, or a bad person for thinking so, but I was glad.

I flashed another smile and turned.

"He's going to be disappointed that you didn't stop by to see him," Zach said before I got more than a few steps.

I whirled back around. "Damon'll get over it."

"Not Damon. John."

The hairs on the backs of my arms and neck stood on end. "You're not still talking to him, are you, Zach?"

Zach shook his head. "No."

"Good." I couldn't help but glance towards his pocket. "What really happened? With your hand?"

He frowned. "I told you. I wanted to see if it hurt."

Well, it sounded as insane the second time I'd heard it as the first. I couldn't help but say, "Of course it would."

"I got—mixed up." He gave a sheepish a smile. "Stress does weird things, I guess."

No kidding. But even stress didn't seem like a plausible enough answer. Maybe he really had been compelled. Except Zach had to be ingesting vervain on the regular. How could he have been compelled?

I bit my lip for a moment and summoned a weak smile. "Well, thanks for the directions, Zach."

He nodded. "Of course. Anything for you, Elena."

O-kay. That was weird. A bit creeped out, I hurried back to the SUV.

* * *

The turnoff to the old cemetery was right where Zach said it would be. I was able to take the SUV up the dirt road all the way to the graveyard. There was a flashlight in the SUV that helped me pick my way past the tombstones and the beer bottles to the path that Zach said would lead to the old church. It wasn't a properly maintained path. Not like the way to the Falls' picnic site, so while it was visible thanks to the well-trampled ground, branches grew over it, grass grew in clumps here and there, and exposed roots stuck out of the ground. I had to pick my way carefully around.

I figured I had to be close to the old church. I slowed as I went further along, flashlight sweeping through the woods.

Despite my caution, the light falling upon a pale face floating between a cluster of trees still startled a jump out of me.

Damon squinted against the beam. "About time." He stepped over, taking my arm and pulling me alongside him. "C'mon. It's this way." A little louder he said, "I've got her."

I kept careful watch on the ground as he pulled me through the forest. "Why'd they build a church in the middle of the woods?"

"This was Fell land, once. Thomas Fell donated the acres, and the god-fearing folk of Mystic Falls volunteered to help build it. Was a big community project," Damon explained. "Way most of the town was built back in the early days."

"But it's a ways off from the town center, isn't it?"

"Not so far." He guided me around a fallen log. "And the path was better maintained. You could drive a carriage all the way from the church to the cemetary." He scowled. "It only went to the dogs after they burned the church to the ground." We stepped round another group of trees and Damon said, "Ta da."

However large and beautiful the old church must have once been, now it was a few waist-high walls of stone blocks. The woods were creeping up on it, a few trees growing right next to the walls themselves. The handle of a shovel flashed under the beam of my flashlight, along with an impressive mound of freshly dug earth.

"Mind the foundation. Or what's left of it," Damon said, guiding me through the small maze of crumbled stone and stray blocks littering the ground.

"Why'd they chose a church to burn down?" I wondered. "Instead of a barn or something?"

"Barns are useful." Damon shrugged. "Maybe they hoped god would sort 'em out. Who knows how the mind of an angry mob works." He led me towards the mound of earth, which without a small wall in the way, I saw sat next to a set of circular stairs. The stairs led down into a soft golden light. "Ladies first."

Despite his words, Damon took my hand and kept hold of it as I took my first tentative step. Dirt ground under my sneaker, the step itself feeling decidedly uneven. After teetering a bit, I tightened my hold on Damon's hand before moving to the next. By the time I was knee-high with the tomb's entrance, I bent slightly far enough to see into the small round chamber.

And a certain curly haired witch waiting between a set of four torches.

Her brows lifted the further down the steps I came, though whether from willingly being part of this madness or the fact Damon kept hold of my hand, I couldn't say. "There you are," Bree said, an annoyed cast to her face. "Left me alone long enough."

"Sorry," Damon replied, guiding me past the last step. "Had to make sure our ghost repellent wasn't wandering the woods like a lost little lamb."

Bree snorted. "Damon, she'd be safer coming across a whole pack of wolves than you."

He tsked, placing his newly freed hand over his heart. "Ow."

"Truth hurts," she said, dismissively. Her eyes roamed over me. "So you're his latest diversion?"

I frowned. "We're not together."

"We just broke up this morning," Damon explained. "She's heartbroken."

"Yeah," I answered flatly, choosing to examine the large stone carved into the shape of a door, pentagram chiseled into its center, dominating the room. "I've been listening to country music all day to cope."

"Mmkay," Bree hummed, brows once again held high.

"I thought you liked country."

Stefan's appearance coincided with a sighed, "Thank god," on my part. Damon's brows furrowed as he frowned while Stefan gave a little smile.

"Some. I'm particular."

Stefan had a bag in hand that he passed to Bree. "Good to know."

"Yes, yes. Fascinating as this little discussion on musical tastes is, can we get to the main event?"

"Never used to be this impatient," Bree stated with a curl to her lips that had me grinning.

Damon shrugged as he pulled a bag of blood out from his jacket. "I've been patient for a hundred and forty odd years. I'm over it." He frowned. "I hope you have everything you need."

"You're the one I've been waiting on." Bree opened the bag and pulled out the grimoire. She placed it on the ground and, with a hand hovering over the book, spread her fingers.

The book leapt open and fluttered through dozens of pages, settling on one almost halfway through.

"Wow." I'd seen Sheila and Esther with the candles, but that bit of Harry Potter spell work had me genuinely awed.

"Parlor tricks," Bree replied. She held out a hand to Damon. "If you got that necklace, I'll show your ex the good stuff."

Damon reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a chain which, at its end, hung a certain yellow crystal. It spun to and fro, glinting in the torchlight as he held it out to Bree. "One comet-charged crystal."

Bree inhaled as she closed her hand around it, eyes closing as she smiled. "Charged full, alright." Her eyes popped back open.

"You can do it?" Damon asked, for the first time looking hopeful.

"Yeah, baby. I can do it."

Stefan frowned. "Can you close it?"

Bree looked over. "Sure can. Won't be as tight a seal, but it'll hold well enough."

"What do you mean, won't be as tight?" Stefan asked, brows swooping downward.

Before Bree could answer, Damon interjected, "Who cares? Kill the rest if you're so worried about it."

Stefan's brows flattened. "I intend to."

"Then let's get going," Damon said to Bree.

She gave a nod and took a deep breath, holding up the necklace. A bright light emanated from inside it, like a star had been caught in amber. The crystal floated upwards, gradually lighting the entire chamber. Yellow triangles of light cast from the crystal's cut floated across the stone walls.

In the middle, Bree knelt in front of the Grimoire and began to chant. The words were in no language I recognized, not that I'd recognize many. But she spoke them confidently and clearly, and each one seemed to ring out in the chamber.

After a while, the crystal's glow became more intense. So much so that I had to squint, and eventually cover my eyes with a hand, as a light that could rival the sun radiated from the center. Eyes shuttered, I heard a loud scraping of stone grinding against stone, Bree's voice becoming more intense, and the light in my hand turning the darkness behind my eyelids bright orange.

Just when I wondered if the light was going to set us all on fire or something, it began to fade and eventually die as Bree's voice gentled and slowed.

When it was safe enough to open my eyes again, I looked to the tomb's door. It was cracked open.

Bree took a deep breath and said two words. "It's down."

Damon disappeared.

I was about to follow when Stefan laid a hand on my shoulder. "Maybe you should stay out here."

"I told you, Stefan. Elena went in. Maybe it's not necessary, but I'd rather be safe than sorry." I put my hand over his. "Anna isn't here. It'll be fine." I hoped.

Stefan's stare searched my eyes. He must have found my resolve because he said, "Alright." He turned and leaned towards one of the torches, picking it up. "But I'm going in with you."

Bree crossed her arms. "Guess I'll wait by myself. Near a graveyard. Outside a tomb filled with vampires."

I grimaced. "Sorry."

She huffed a laugh. "I'm a witch." A brow arched. "I can take care of myself."

I hoped she did better here than on the show. Still, I gave her a nod. "Okay." I lifted the flashlight. "We let him see she's not there. Then we leave and seal them back in."

"I'll do one better," Stefan replied, picking up a shovel. He handed me the torch. Holding it in my free hand, I watched as he snapped the end of the shovel off. He met my eyes. "We make sure they never walk out."

Staking them while they were helpless? My stomach twisted. I had to remind myself what they'd do to the town if they were allowed out. And who knew what might happen next. "I guess it'll put an end to their suffering."

Stefan's brow raised. "That's your concern?"

I bit my lip. "I know. I'm weird."

His eyes gentled slightly as he gazed at me. I thought he was about to say something, but he took the torch back instead. "C'mon." He turned to the side and slipped between the door and the wall. "Stay close."

I slid in behind him.

The first thing that hit was the darkness. Then came the smell. The air was stale, of course, I'd expected that. But there was something more to it. A moldy scent that lingered on the back of the tongue like a bad taste. I had to fight against a constant urge to spit.

The light from my flashlight trembled despite my attempts to keep it steady. I shined it up ahead, since the torch gave more than enough for us to see our feet and our immediate surroundings. It was all stone here. Stacked on each other like bricks, but no mortar. None that I could see. Just the weight of each one holding back the earth. Standing next to the wall was like opening the fridge door and feeling the cold waft out.

The floor was dirt and scratched under our shoes. The sound followed us inside. When we reached a corner, we took it slow. I swept the flashlight across the space beyond, but it was an empty room.

We'd taken less than two steps across it when the whispering started.

I jolted into Stefan's back. He paused to look over his shoulder, meeting my eyes. "It's alright. They can't move, so they're trying to lure you."

"How the hell will creepy whispers lure anyone in?" I wondered.

Stefan gave a little grin, but it fell a moment later. "They're desperate."

We walked further into the tomb. Rounding another corner, my flashlight scanned the floor and then—

"Oh," I breathed.

The vampire looked dead. Her skin was grey, paper-thin and so wrinkled it looked more like a shirt that had dried wadded up than flesh. The tendons, bones, and muscles were so prominent, it was almost as if there wasn't anything covering them at all. A body with all the liquid sucked out of it till it was as dry as jerky. Her clothes were something straight out of a period piece. One of those dresses with huge, bell shaped skirts that had to have a cage underneath to give it it's shape. The bodice's neckline was so wide, it was nearly off the shoulder. The fabric looked like silk. It must have been a very richly colored blue once but was now covered in a thick layer of dust.

I was examining the ringlets in her blonde hair when her eyes popped open.

"Holy shit," I gasped, grabbing Stefan as if this were a jaunt through a haunted house.

"Stay right here," he said, squeezing my hand gently before unpeeling my fingers. He handed me the torch and hefted the broken handle of the shovel. Straightening his shoulders, he stepped forward.

Red eyes rolled up to follow him. There didn't look to be anything behind them. Not fear, or anger, or gratitude. Just glazed red irises tracking the thing that moved, more reflex than thought.

Stefan wrapped his hands over the handle and said, "Look away."

At first, I thought he was talking to her. But no. He was talking to me.

Swallowing, I averted my eyes to the opposite wall. "There's another," I whispered.

"I know."

Killing a desiccated vampire sounded like poking a hollow, burnt turkey, followed by the rasp of wood sliding free.

Stefan crossed in front of the flashlight's beam to the next vampire, lifted the handle, glanced my way. Soon as my eyes were diverted, the same sounds whispered from that corner. I chewed my inner cheek. They'd kill people in the town, I reminded myself. We were making sure that wouldn't happen.

I didn't feel like I was helping to save anyone, though.

We worked our way in further. As Stefan stabbed another chamber full of vampires, I wondered where Damon was. He had to be near the back by this point. I went a little further ahead, marking where the next vampires were and kept clear. Some of their eyes would pop open, gleaming a deep ruby red in the beam of the light, each set following me as I crossed the floor. But seeing how…stationary… they were eased a lot of the fear. I mean, my heart was still pumping fast enough to make me slightly lightheaded, but I wasn't so scared that I couldn't gain some distance from Stefan. So long as I was in eyesight.

I peered around the corner and saw flickering golden light from a chamber at the end. Damon.

Turning back around, I hurried to Stefan, who was about to make his way to the next vampire. "It's Damon. Stefan, I think he's in the last chamber."

Stefan paused, meeting my eyes. After a moment, he nodded.

Handing over the torch, we left the rest of the vampires where they laid and carefully crossed the narrow hall. There were a few other vampires reclining against the stonework here, and they'd be as happy to take a bite out of Stefan as me. Blood was blood, after all.

Reaching the final room, I tried to prepare myself for the inevitable burst of fury the moment Damon realized she wasn't—

"Katherine!"

Stepping past the opening, I saw Damon at the back of the room. He leaned over a woman in the same dated clothing as everyone else. This time a bright lavender dress that draped immaculately across the floor. He had her cradled against his chest, holding her head up. I could see waves of brunette curls spilling over his arm. As we moved in closer, I saw a face whose reflection I'd been viewing in the mirror lately.

No.

No, it wasn't possible.

"Katherine," Damon breathed, hand caressing a soft, round cheek.

I took a step back, bumping into Stefan. Stefan's eyes snapped to mine, wide and questioning. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. There was nothing I could think to say. No explanation I could give.

Damon put the blood bag between his teeth, tearing through the plastic to rip it open.

And Katherine Pierce opened her eyes.


	13. Thirteen

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** This chapter pushes the story into the 80k word range! That's a whole novel's worth of story! Seeing as the protagonist is an OC, I'm thankful that y'all find this fic worth the time it takes to read it.

Once again, thank you for your reviews, follows, and favorites! They really do encourage me to keep going. I'm so grateful to anyone who takes the time to leave them.

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Elena?" Stefan stared at the woman Damon cradled in his arms. His mouth was slightly ajar, and his throat bobbed several times before he managed to ask, "I thought you said—"

"She's not supposed to be here." I couldn't understand. I squeezed my flashlight, its beam pointed straight at the dark brown eyes staring back at Damon as she suckled at the blood bag he held at her mouth. "She's not."

"You were _wrong_." When Damon turned to look over his shoulder at me, his narrowed eyes promised murder. "Or you didn't want me to find her."

I stepped closer to Stefan, even though I knew he wouldn't be able to stop Damon if he was determined to kill me. "I didn't know!"

Fortunately, he seemed more interested in holding Katherine than tearing my heart out. He went back to staring in complete fawning adoration at her. Like a worshipper granted the rapturous honor of viewing their god.

Stefan closed his mouth, jaw jutting as his teeth ground together. "You got what you came for. It's time to leave."

"I couldn't agree more," Damon replied. The blood bag must've been empty.

Damon was about to toss it aside when I cried out, "Don't!"

He paused.

"That's how the others get free. The blood."

"I'm tempted to rip out your throat and feed the rest of them right now," Damon said. His voice was frigid enough to frost the walls.

Stefan moved in front of me. "If she knew Katherine was here, and didn't want her out, why tell you where the grimoire was? Or allow you to get the crystal?"

Damon shrugged.

"I'll take the blood bag." Stefan extended his hand. "You got what you came for, Damon." Stefan's green eyes entreated his brother to listen. "What does the rest of it matter?"

"Damon?"

It was a voice exactly like Elena's. Like mine, now. Which I knew it would be, of course. Katherine was the spitting image of Elena, but for her curly hair. Still, to hear it. To know it was Katherine speaking it.

Fear stabbed an icy hand into my chest and squeezed my heart. I gulped down my breaths, hoping she wouldn't hear me.

"Yes, Katherine," Damon said, reverent and adoring. "I'm here."

"Stefan?"

I'd swear both brothers tensed at the same time. Stefan frowned so deep his forehead had lines. "Katherine."

"You came for me."

"I did," Damon declared as his grip on her tightened. His eyes burned like blue fire.

Stefan's frown somehow managed to dip even lower. "We need to leave," he said, taking my arm. "Now."

That sounded like a good idea. I nodded. "Yeah."

Katherine squinted into the light I held in front of me, still beamed straight into her face. "Have you brought me food?"

I swallowed, taking a step back despite my weak legs. I did not want to meet a ravenously blood thirsty Katherine.

"No," Stefan insisted firmly.

But Katherine had a hand on the wall, was dragging herself upwards.

I shuddered and pressed into Stefan's side. I don't know why. She was centuries older than Stefan, even if he weren't on the bunny diet. It wasn't as if he could protect me.

I did the only thing I could think of.

I turned tail and ran.

And almost smacked into Katherine.

"Shit!" I stumbled back from the sight of my recent reflection staring back at me with blood red eyes and very long, very pointy incisors. Hissing.

"Katherine!" Stefan yelled. "Look at her face! Show her your face, Elena!"

I was trembling, black spots dancing across my vision. I somehow managed to flip the flashlight around with hands made clumsy from how hard they were shaking and shine the light right on me.

Apparently, that beat out a hundred plus years of vampiric hunger.

The hissing slowed to a stop, the blood drained from her eyes and the veins disappeared beneath her skin. Brows pinched in puzzlement, Katherine glanced behind me. "What is this?"

"She's your doppelgänger, Katherine," Stefan said, hands stretched out before him, slowly edging towards us.

"My doppelgänger," Katherine repeated, sights fixing once more on me. I kept the light pointed under my chin. I must've looked like a girl scout telling fireside ghost stories. Except for the shaking and tears of terror gathering in my eyes.

She moved towards me. Glided, almost, she was so graceful. I stiffened, except for the uncontrollable shivering. I suddenly felt a deep kinship for all those thirsty vampires, who could only move their eyes, because the only thing I could do was watch her come closer.

"Katherine!" Stefan might've meant to sound authoritative, but fear made his command come too quick and breathless.

Katherine flicked an irritated look at him before that annoyed gaze fell on me. When she was close enough that we could have bumped noses, we stared at each other like the most screwed up fun house mirror in history. If fun house mirrors put people in Victorian dresses and made their doubles smirk like super villains, anyway.

She bent her mouth over my neck. I think I may have blacked out a little at that point, but I know I heard her sniff.

I shut my eyes and hoped it'd be quick. Painless was probably asking for too much.

"I know someone who'd love to meet you."

A breath exploded out of my chest. My knees were as sturdy as jelly, and I nearly fell as I took a trembling step back.

"That's the plan," Damon said, suddenly beside her. He tilted his head and smirked at me. "She says some big bad original vampire wants to eat her."

"She's not wrong," Katherine said, eyes narrowing. Turning to Damon, she asked, "But how do you know that?"

Damon's eyebrows shot up. "So she's right about the Originals?"

"Look," Stefan said, finally at my side and then in front of me. "We can discuss this back at the boarding house." He gave a pointed look around. "This isn't the place to have any sort of conversation."

"True. I've had more than enough of this wretched tomb," Katherine declared. "Tell me you have a way out."

"Of course," Damon said. "It's why I had to wait a hundred and forty-five years to free you, Katherine."

She put a hand to his chest, as if to steady herself from falling over. "Has it been that long?"

Damon covered her hand with his. "I'm sorry. All the witches I asked said the comet had to pass over Mystic Falls again." He raised her deceptively delicate fingers to his lips. "I freed you the second I could."

She smiled. "My dear Damon."

He lit up like a praised puppy.

I just wanted to get the hell out of this entire nightmare. Tomb. Body. Universe. I wasn't picky at this point. I looked imploringly to Stefan.

He nodded. "Come on." He lifted the torch and took my arm. "We'll have Bree seal them back inside."

Katherine turned, brows pinched, lips curled into a frown. "What?"

"We can't let this many vampires out on the town, Katherine."

She frowned but demurred with, "If you insist, Stefan."

That was quick. I knew Katherine was ruthless, but wow. I guess that vampires who starve together, don't necessarily stay together.

The four of us hurried back out of the tomb. I kept to the back, as far from Katherine as I could manage without being left behind. Not that Stefan would have allowed it. He stayed by my side as if stuck there with superglue, eyeing the remaining vampires that watched us pass with a deep frown.

By the time we reached the slim opening, I swear all three vampires held their non-essential breath. Damon stayed back and indicated the opening with a nod. "After you," he said to Katherine.

Katherine, skirts in hand, gave the lit opening a considering look and took a step. She made it past the threshold. Moving so fast I couldn't see she practically blinked out of existence. Damon was gone in the next instance.

Stefan echoed Damon's earlier nod. "Go on."

"You first," I insisted. "I won't get stuck if that barrier springs up."

Stefan looked as if he wanted to argue but ended up acquiescing. "Stay right behind me."

"Okay."

He stayed to human speed as he slid sideways through the door. With a final glance back over my shoulder into the darkness, thinking of the dozen or so vampires who still—well, existed—in that darkness, I swallowed my pity and slipped after Stefan.

I had to blink against the sudden influx of light after so much darkness. When my eyes adjusted, I saw our small party gathered between the remaining torches. Katherine was gazing around, dark eyes calculating as she took in the grimoire and Bree. Damon had sights only for Katherine. Stefan was waiting beside the door, apparently for me, because he shuffled immediately beside me as soon as I'd exited.

Bree's head moved back and forth as she studied Katherine and I.

"You can bring the seal back up?" Stefan asked her, having taken my elbow. He was guiding me towards the stairs, but along the opposite wall from Katherine and Damon. Glancing over, I saw Katherine watching us. Something in her eyes made my hairs stand on end.

"Sure," Bree replied. Blinking, she asked, "But didn't you stake the rest?"

"Not enough time." Stefan put the torch back into its holder. "Just seal them inside. It will hold, won't it?"

"It will." Bree held up the crystal. "But there isn't going to be as strong a seal this time. The crystal doesn't have enough juice."

"But they won't be able to get out."

"No, honey. They won't."

"Good enough," Stefan replied.

Sealing the tomb back up was a lot like removing the seal, or so it seemed to a layperson like me. Like Bree had hinted, the light emanating from the crystal wasn't nearly as bright this time around. Not that I didn't have to squint and hold a hand over my eyes. When it was finished and dimmed back down, spots danced in front of my eyes.

The door was still open.

"Shouldn't we shut it?" I asked.

Bree let down her hands, and her shoulders dropped with her. "Sorry, kids, but I'm about out of juice myself." She closed the grimoire by hand and held it out to Damon. "Best I can do."

I frowned at the open doorway. I could practically feel the foreboding emanating from within.

"It's more than enough, Bree," Damon replied, taking the grimoire from her. "I owe you."

"I'll collect someday," she promised.

Expression unusually serious, he nodded.

"May we leave this cursed place?" Katherine appealed to Damon.

Damon, taking her hand, said a final thank you to Bree that sounded sincere and, without a backward glance, led Katherine up the stairs.

Bree watched them go with a strange expression, some combination of wistful and relieved. Once they were gone, she sauntered over to join Stefan and me. "What's the deal between you and Katherine?"

I didn't know how coveted doppelgängers were by witches. It seemed safest to say, "Distant ancestor."

Bree's brow ticked up. "And Damon was dating you until this morning?" She clicked her tongue. "That's—" she gave a small chuckle. "That's Damon, alright."

I let Bree take the steps first and noticed she was moving a little too carefully. She must've been more exhausted then she'd let on. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I'll be fine once I get some rest." She smiled over her shoulder. "But thanks for asking."

Back at the top of the ruins, Bree insisted she could make it to her car alone. Fortunately, she hadn't parked far from me, so we all ended up walking the path back to the graveyard together. The woods were peaceful, but so dark it was black. The night was filled with clouds that covered the moon, forcing me to use my flashlight. Bree had her own, and between our two beams, we had a fair view of the path and the trees lining it.

Back at the cemetery, we shared a final goodbye. I waited by the door of the SUV until Bree managed to turn her car about and drive off down the narrow road that would lead back to Washington Street.

Once Stefan and I were seated in the quiet of the car, the full weight of the evening began pressing in on me. I stared into the darkness past the windshield. "She shouldn't have been in there, Stefan."

Stefan laid a hand on one of the arm rests separating us. "I believe you."

I had just released Katherine Pierce—Katerina Petrova—into the world.

What had I done?

"Everything I do—I make everything worse." Gathering tears strangled my voice, made it wobble.

"Hey," Stefan angled in his seat towards me. His hands cupped my face, thumbs wiping back the tears as his eyes met mine. "That's not true."

The words I'd held back for so long, even from myself, slipped out. "I want to go home."

Stefan frowned, then leaned over the arm rests. His lips pressed against my forehead. Releasing my face, he wrapped his arms around me and tightened his hold until I was enveloped in a strong, warm hug. Side of his face pressing against the top of my head, he said, "I know."

My face screwed up, but the tears squeezed their way out despite my best effort to hold them back. And once the damn had broken, they came in a flood. I sobbed ugly and wet heaving breaths. Stefan's arms were firm and kept me pressed against him.

It wasn't until I the terror and the grief began to ease back into manageable levels that I realized who I'd been bawling on. My neck heated. I swallowed against the remaining lump in my throat. "I'm sorry," I rasped, anticipating he'd say some version of 'It's alright,' but needing to say it anyway as I straightened.

"You've been through a lot lately." Stefan used both hands to brush my hair back behind my ears. "I'm surprised you've held together as long as you have."

"I hate crying." I huffed a little laugh, wiping my face off with the backs of my sleeves. "It's pointless. Just leaves me a mess." I was an ugly crier, too. Apparently, Elena was no prettier.

"Sometimes it helps to purge, even if it gets messy."

I sighed. "I just feel tired with itchy eyes. And I really want to wash my face." I shook my head. "But I'm done complaining."

"I don't mind," Stefan assured.

He was a sweetheart for saying so, but I'd already sobbed onto his shirt. He didn't need me whining in his ear, too. "I don't know why not. I'm annoying myself." I blinked my eyes as clear as I could manage, until he became clearer in my sight. "Are you—alright? You're the one who should be in shock."

Stefan's lips sealed tight before he admitted, "I'm not happy about Katherine being out of the tomb." He frowned. "I'm hoping it will calm Damon."

"I'm not so sure about that. I don't think Katherine is very good for Damon."

Stefan shifted back into his seat. "Neither do I. But after a hundred and forty-five years, I doubt anyone will convince him of that."

We both let the reality of a Katherine led Damon sink in.

I gripped the steering wheel. "If I was wrong about this, what else am I wrong about, Stefan?"

Stefan shook his head. "What are you right about?" he wondered. "Can we afford to ignore everything because details might be different?"

"Katherine being in the tomb is a pretty major detail."

"Lets see what Katherine knows about the Originals. Compare them to the ones you," he paused, clearly searching for a word and settling on, "saw."

"Watched on t.v.?"

Stefan close eyes. "I'm trying to forget that part," he muttered.

Of course, comparing with Katherine meant talking to Katherine. Something I'd rather not do. Ever. But she was the only other person around with knowledge of the Originals. I didn't think I had much of a choice.

I made another less than attractive attempt to clear my sinuses, the kind that came with a horrible snort that caused my face to flush in mortification. I rubbed my face with my sleeve again and started the engine. The brake lights lit the trees blood red. "This is going to be a nightmare to back out of," I muttered.

Stefan unbuckled his seat belt. "Here, let me. My night vision is better."

Right. Because of the whole nocturnal predator thing. "Okay."

We took a minute to switch places. Both settled, Stefan backed all the way to the road without so much as scraping past a branch—a feat I hadn't managed driving in with full-beam headlights. "Do you want to drive?" he offered as he pulled out alongside Washington.

"I'm fine riding. If you don't mind."

Stefan shook his head and pulled onto the road. I expected him to drive pell-mell like Edward in Twilight, but Stefan kept to the speed limit. I suspected, based on what I could remember of the sports car he'd end up driving later, that there was a speed demon lurking beneath that responsible exterior. Maybe it only came out when he was in his own car and alone.

Except for a few lights, the boarding house was deceptively quiet as we pulled up. Zach must have taken off for the night, or he was in his room. Either way, he was nowhere to be found when we walked in. The parlor was filled with the sound of a woman giggling. Katherine.

Stefan and I exchanged a glance. He looked no more eager to head into the parlor than I was. Still, he moved first, reaching the doors and pushing them open as I trotted up behind him.

We found what we expected. Damon and Katherine necking like a couple of teenagers. Katherine's back was pressed to one of the bookshelves while Damon worked his lips on her neck. Head thrown back, Katherine's lips curled in satisfaction. When her eyes rolled down, they took both Stefan and I in. One side of her mouth quirked a little higher, as if our viewing heightened her excitement.

Despite that, she nudged Damon. It wasn't enough. Damon's head only came up off Katherine's shoulder once she gave a strong push on his.

"You seem to be acclimating to the times," Stefan observed in a droll tone.

Damon's answering grin screamed contentment while his eyes were dark with lust and wicked anticipation.

Pursing my lips, I crossed my arms and stared at a nearby shelf.

"Jealous, Stefan?" Katherine asked, voice airy with amusement.

The swish of silk accompanied Katherine as she moved. Like the prey that knows a predator is near, my sights darted back to her, tracking her as she drew closer. Though Stefan was her target, not me. I still tensed, my stomach clenching and heart drumming in my ears.

Stefan could not have looked more unimpressed as she came to a skirt rustling stop before him. "Concerned."

Katherine gave a coquettish little smile before her attention slid to me. "Damon tells me she's some sort of—creature?"

A pang of hurt stuck my heart, though I don't know why that should have surprised me.

"She's human," Stefan corrected. "But not from our world."

"It was a remarkable tale," Katherine went on. The way she looked at me—I didn't care for the interest sparking in her eyes.

She turned away, back to smiling at Damon. "But I was somewhat distracted by the marvelous carriage." Katherine glided back to Damon, whose hand was waiting to claim hers as she stepped up to him. "This camaro."

Damon grinned down at her. Then, for the first time since we'd entered, Damon's gaze fell on me. He smirked.

God. Fail to fall over yourself fawning after a man's car, and he holds it over your head forever. At least this one did. Scoffing, I turned back to the bookshelf.

"Is that the manner of style now?" Katherine asked, sights fixed back on me. "Trousers and shirts?"

"There are still dresses," Damon assured her. "But most women prefer to wear them on special occasions. Casual wear is mostly jeans. Slacks. Sweatpants. Shorts. Skirts."

"Skirts," Katherine's brows raised in interest.

"Much shorter," Damon's voice held a wicked note, and I could hear the smirk he was probably sporting again.

Katherine gave a humming laugh. My shoulders stiffened, lips pinching together.

Stefan apparently had no more patience for it than I did. "What do you know about the Originals?"

All humor fled from Katherine's voice. "I know you should stay far, far away from them, Stefan."

"Because Klaus is angry at you? For turning?" I asked.

Katherine's brows lifted before her chilling gaze fell on me. "My. You _are_ well informed."

"So it's true," Stefan said, this time staring at Damon. Damon frowned.

Katherine smoothed her hands against her skirts. "I'm sure Klaus would love to torture and kill me, yes."

"I'll never allow that to happen," Damon pledged.

Katherine pressed a gloved hand against his cheek, which he immediately leaned into. "You couldn't stop it."

Damon's face shuttered.

"Why not deal with Elijah?" I asked, pulling her gaze back to me. "Were you worried he wouldn't be happy you used him, too?"

"I never used Elijah," Katherine countered smoothly. "He chose his brother over me. Would you trust your fate to such a man?" Her gaze sharpened. "Or is that your hope? That Elijah will protect you?" Katherine's face took on a bitter cast. "He won't. Not over Klaus."

Pale hands curved over her bare shoulders. "I have clothes for you to change into, Katherine," Damon assuaged, drawing her attention back to him. "I thought you'd want to be out of the dress you've been wearing for over a century."

The lavender silk of her gown still shimmered under the lights. The black trim's lacework was impeccable, no hint of a snag. It looked amazing for its age. All the pieces I'd seen in museums had been faded and stiff.

Katherine blinked before turning her head towards Damon and smiling. "Yes. Thank you, Damon."

"I'll show you to your room," Damon said, holding out the crook of his arm.

Katherine slid hers within, locking them together. "Why, thank you Mister Salvatore."

"My honor, Miss Pierce."

I wanted to vomit.

Part of me couldn't believe this version of Damon. Besotted, he led her out of the parlor like a genuine gentleman of old. Granted, nothing of their behavior when we first walked in was very gentleman and gentlewomanly, but Katherine glided beside Damon like she was the princess to his dark prince. Lord help me, it was almost Disney-esque. I felt blindsided. Especially compared to how he'd been treating me. It was night and day.

"So he does know how to not be a dick." I couldn't help the bitterness that slipped into my voice.

Stefan sighed. "Vampirism didn't do either of us any favors."

"You're not a dick," I pointed out archly.

That got me a slight smile, but it fell almost as quickly. "I'm not drinking human blood."

I guess on the scale of 'kind of a jerk' to 'homicide,' Damon was practically kind to me. Or so I'd thought, until I'd seen this version of him in person.

I moved to the wet bar and poured myself a generous tumbler of tequila. I noted said bottle was under halfway empty, now. I set it back down with a mental shrug. The least he could do for all the crap I had to put up with.

That in mind, I downed a third of the glass before topping it off again.

Damon came waltzing back in. "Katherine must be hungry."

"Then get her another blood bag," Stefan replied, unconcerned.

"I can't give her anymore of that disgusting sludge. We have a fresh vein we could tap in the basement. Too bad about the vervain. Or maybe it's out," Damon mused.

He was talking about Not-John. Shoulders tensing, my head lifted from my morose perusal of the bar's selection. "You can't feed prisoners to people, Damon!"

He threw me a venomous glare. "You need to stop reminding me you're there. Before I forget our deal."

Heat flushed up my neck. I gripped my glass and dropped my gaze, my humiliation redoubling as my eyes started to burn.

"Damon. She didn't know," Stefan said.

"Stop defending her," Damon thrust a finger at me. "If I'd believed her, Katherine would _still_ be rotting away in that tomb."

"But she isn't. You've proven your loyalty." Stefan frowned. "Katherine said herself, the Originals are no fairy tale. If for no other reason, remember that we need her to bargain with them."

"How very mercenary of you, Stefan." Damon smirked and glanced my way. "I suppose whatever some 'vampire of legend' has planned will be a fitting punishment, anyway."

My grip on my glass tightened.

"Are you boys fighting again already?"

At first, when Katherine marched in wearing a dark blue denim jacket, red sweater, and a pair of perfectly fitting skinny jeans, something about the outfit struck me as familiar. Then I realized why.

My mouth dropped. "Are those _my_ clothes?"

"No. Those are Elena's clothes." Damon gave me the most pointed arching of a brow I'd ever received.

"Did you clean out her closet?" I demanded, anger roughening my tone, making my voice deeper—or, rather, Elena's voice.

"Relax, Fake-lena." Damon settled into the couch. "I left half for you."

At this point, I was shocked my glass didn't shatter. I set it down hard enough to send a bang reverberating through the room. "I need to go." I marched towards the door, grabbing my purse and jacket.

Stefan hurried to my side. "But—"

"Jenna made me promise to be home by ten, Stefan." I said before threading my arms through the jacket. "With Jeremy and everything—"

He nodded. "Alright. Will you come over tomorrow?"

I glanced over at Katherine, who was examining the bookshelves, hands folded behind her back. My sights shifted to Damon, who watched her every move with rapturous wonder.

I really didn't want to be around either of them.

But Stefan was probably less happy about it. I looked down. "Yeah." It was the least I owed him for losing it and crying all over him.

Stefan relaxed a touch. His hand moved, as if to reach out, but fell back to his side. "I'll walk you to your car."

Katherine's head turned towards me again, the same dark hostility glittering in her eyes.

I swallowed, eager to be on my way. I walked as fast as I could without outright jogging, Stefan keeping pace. As he escorted me to the SUV, I was pretty sure he was doing it to get away from Katherine.

He opened the driver side door. "Drive safe."

"Yeah," I assured him. I paused before slipping inside. "Will you be alright?"

Stefan grimaced. "I think I'll spend some time in the woods tonight."

Super hearing. Must suck at times like this.

"I'm sorry, Stefan."

He took hold of my face again, bending until my line of sight was even with his. "This is not your fault."

Looking down, I nodded.

Stefan held my face a moment longer before his hands drew away. Our eyes didn't move off one another, didn't blink. We held gazes until I finally climbed into the driver seat. Stefan shut the door once I was settled inside.

He stayed on the porch, watching as I drove away.


	14. Fourteen

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** I'm not as happy with the pacing in this chapter. A few things happen a little too close together for my liking. Hopefully it isn't jarring.

Thank you for the comments, follows, and favorites! I'm always happy to read y'alls guesses as to what's coming next, or your general thoughts about the story/chapter.

**Chapter Fourteen**

The phone rang before I was fully up. Rolling out of bed, I stumbled more than walked to the desk and the cordless. "Hello?" I asked, voice sleep-rasped and hoarse. I used the chair to hold myself up.

"Elena! Hi!" The chipper greeting had my muddled brain begging for mercy.

"Caroline?" I cleared my throat. "Hey."

Katherine. Out of the tomb.

I bolted upright, more awake than a pot full of coffee could have managed as my heart pounded. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Despite her agreement, she didn't sound as if she were dead and transitioning. I was fairly sure she'd sound less petulant if that were the case. "You and Bonnie. What's going on?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

"I know you've got a lot to worry about with Jeremy," Caroline began. "But this weirdness between you two started way before that. All I get from Bonnie is a bunch of nonsense about witches and dreams and weird feelings whenever she's around you."

Oh. Crap.

I ran a hand through Elena's hair, falling back onto the bed. "I don't know, Caroline. She did some reading the future thing at the Falls party. Said I wasn't me. She's been avoiding me ever since."

"That's ridiculous," Caroline declared. "Bonnie always made out that her Grams was crazy. I had no idea she was starting to believe this witchy-woo. But that doesn't explain why you aren't demanding she deal with whatever it is. Why are you avoiding her?"

"It's pretty obvious she doesn't want to be around me. I don't want to push."

"Since when?" Caroline said, sounding equal parts incredulous and amused. "Elena, you are the queen of pushing."

I ran my hand along the top of the blanket. "I—guess I'm just trying to give her space to work out… whatever."

"Well, it clearly isn't working. If you two don't start getting along by the car wash, I'm going to lock you both in a room and make you work it out."

"Car wash?"

"The Sexy Suds Car Wash?" Caroline enunciated. "The fundraiser for the athletics department next week?"

I paled. "Um, I don't think—"

"Don't you dare try to back out, Elena Gilbert. I know where you live."

A little intimidated, I eyed the phone. "…Right."

"Bring your ridiculously hot boyfriend."

"We broke up." I was never happier to be able to say that.

"What?! And you didn't call me _immediately_?! Elena! What happened?"

I pursed my lips. "The stuff with Jeremy embarrassed him." And then he got the original model back.

"You cannot be serious. What. A. Jerk!" Caroline huffed. "Come over. We'll eat junk food, watch movies, and trash talk him."

"I can't. I promised Stefan I'd spend the day with him."

Caroline's voice was laden with suspicion. "You're certain Damon didn't break up with you because of how close you are to his brother?"

If Damon and I had been in a real relationship, he would've only seen that as a challenge, not a deal breaker. "Pretty sure." I rubbed my face.

"We are going to talk all about this, Elena," Caroline promised. Or threatened. It was hard to tell.

We said goodbye and hung up. I closed my eyes, hoping to get back to sleep. That hope was dashed after ten minutes passed where I was stuck examining the back of my eyelids.

I decided I might as well start the day.

[ = = = ]

It was another beautiful morning in Mystic Falls. A few wisps of clouds floated overhead like over stretched cotton balls, but otherwise the sky was clear. I was starting to grow used to the town and its old southern charm. I still missed the convenience of the city, but I couldn't deny I was learning the appeal of small-town America.

The way to the Salvatore Boarding House was becoming as familiar as the high school. Pulling round and parking, I eyed the door, wary of what I'd find on the other side. Getting out of the car, I kept my ears open as I took my time walking to the entrance. I didn't hear anything as I reached the front door. Taking a steadying breath, I knocked.

As soon as my knuckles hit the wood for the last rap it opened to reveal Stefan. "Elena," he said, relief lightening his usually somber features. He stepped outside, leaving the door open behind him.

"Hi, Stefan." My brow ticked up. "Eager to get out?"

Stefan exhaled. "I wasn't sure when you'd be over, so I came back around five."

Last I'd checked the SUV's dash had showed nine thirteen. "You spent the whole night in the woods?"

"Stefan likes to commune with the squirrels."

A shirtless Damon appeared in the doorway. Hair mussed, the older Salvatore radiated a languorous, after-sex glow. Stefan's face shuttered as he turned to regard his brother.

I grabbed Stefan's arm before he could say anything. "Let's go for a walk."

Stefan and Damon stared at one another. Finally, Stefan allowed me to lead him away from the porch.

"Show me the forest?" I asked, trying to pull his attention from the house.

Stefan adjusted his stride to match mine. "If you want."

"Was the original Salvatore estate very far from here?"

"No." His expression eased into something more relaxed. "You'd like to see it?"

"Yeah." I meant it.

"There isn't much of the old house left," he warned.

I'd figured that. "I'd still like to see the area."

He headed left towards the river. I followed.

Stefan was silent, forehead crinkled in thought as we walked. The woods were thin here. The sparsity of trees let in plenty of light and the underbrush flourished. Our footsteps rustled as the grass brushed against our legs. Mine were bare since I hadn't planned to go hiking. I felt every blade that slid against my skin.

For the next fifteen minutes, while Stefan stayed lost in thought and I enjoyed the scenery, only birdsong and rustling leaves broke the quiet. Off in the distance was the tapping echo of a woodpecker.

Then, as the woods began to grow thicker, a small lane wound its way between the trees. The slide of grass on my legs disappeared as we stepped onto the path. Ahead stood two old brick columns topped with stone sculptures too broken to tell what they might've once been. "Is this…?"

Stefan's eyes were on me, rather than the columns. "Yes."

We walked between them and further up the lane. The first thing to catch my eye were the bricks stacked into what must have been a chimney. Half of it had fallen away, leaving the inner chamber bare to the elements. Some of the foundation's masonry remained, but most had also crumbled away. The forest had reclaimed all the land surrounding it.

Stefan guided me around what must've been the main house. A small distance away stood a stone bench and the remnants of a pedestal, perhaps for a bird fountain. "Gardens," he explained, sights sweeping across the tall trees that grew everywhere. I wondered what he saw in their place. Rows of hedges? Flowerbeds?

I turned around, staring at the foundation. Replacing it with the enormous house I had seen on the show in my mind's eye. "A two-story white antebellum style estate."

"Yes." Branches crunched as Stefan moved up beside me. "How much of the past—"

"Just the… highlights." I gazed at the trees, at how tall they were. Nearly a century and a half of growth. "Katherine arriving. You and Damon asking her to the ball. The evening after the ball." Stefan's brows lifted at that. My own furrowed. "She sent him away that night." At his questioning look, I clarified, "Damon. After your confession, Katherine compelled him to leave her alone." I turned to face him. "She always picks you, Stefan. When she's forced to choose." I frowned. "She's not going to be content with Damon. She wants you. She's convinced you want her too."

Stefan's gaze flickered off into the forest. "I'm not Damon, Elena. I'm not pining after someone who controlled me and turned me into a monster a hundred and forty years ago." He looked back to me. "If it weren't for Damon, I'd have been more than happy to leave her in that tomb to rot. Or stake her myself."

His expression barely shifted. His voice sounded as serious as always. Yet there was something behind those eyes that nearly had me stepping back. A hatred that hardened his stare, revealed a shadow of something darker in his usually gentle gaze.

Something of the Ripper.

Uncomfortable with what I saw, I studied the whorls sculpted on the bench instead, it's leaves and blossoms. I sat down, let the chill sink through my denim shorts into my skin. My heart began to slow.

Stefan stayed where he was, preternaturally still as a corpse. No movement in his face, no breath, no swaying with the breeze, nothing. He must have heard my heartbeat and knew I was unnerved.

His creepy stillness wasn't really helping that much, but I pushed it aside. It was the thought that counted.

There was a pinecone beside the bench. I picked it up, tested the scales with my thumb. "I didn't mean to say you want anything to do with her. But she's not going to let you go so easily, Stefan."

"You know this from your show?"

I nodded.

"You didn't say anything about it."

Breaking off a few of the bottom seeds, I tossed them to the ground. "The fact she was trying to gather the ingredients to break the curse seemed more important."

Stefan leaned back against a tree, hands tucked into his pockets, staring down. "What did she do?"

"Threatened Elena's family. Had Jenna stab herself in the stomach." Another seed snapped off. "But you and Elena were together. She thought if she could get you to break it off, you would—I don't know. Remember how you felt about her." I shrugged. "Or she's just sadistic."

"Try the latter." Stefan gave a harsh breath and shoved off the tree.

I flung the seed on the ground. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Elena isn't here. You're not together."

He hunched over. "You should've mentioned this sooner."

A crack echoed through the forest as I broke another seed. "It's not an issue, Stefan. But she's going to try—"

"Who said it isn't an issue?" Stefan stared.

"Stefan, I'm not Elena," I repeated, slow. "I know you call me that, but I'm not her."

"I know," he said, his regard open and steady.

I spread my hands. "Okay." Bringing my hands back together, I snapped off another seed. "So like I said, it's not an issue."

A bitter smile curved his lips. "It's not?"

My skin began to tingle. I dragged down a breath, but there wasn't enough air. Rubbing my lips together, I managed a small, "No."

"Elena."

"I'm not Elena," I snapped.

Stefan crossed the distance, sights fixed on me. "I know," he repeated, careful and deliberate. It was my turn to stiffen as he crouched down, hands settling over mine.

I squeezed the pinecone until its seeds dug into my palms, cracking into pieces. "Don't," I whispered.

Stefan's head fell forward, almost dropping onto my hands. First was the whisper of breath across the back of my knuckles. My own breathing paused. The woods became alive with the creak of swaying branches and hum of insects hidden beneath the grass and bushes.

His lips were firm yet gentle, a mere hint of pressure as they pressed against my hand. A gesture from an older time, when a grand house stood yards away, and the trees lined a great parcel of land. The hedges would've hidden us from the world, and the perfume of flowers would've filled the air rather than moss and earth and wood.

I finally dragged in a breath as his lips lifted. But then he followed, eyes big and greener than the leaves dancing overhead, watching me and gleaming with hope.

My heart clenched. I swallowed. "You don't know me, Stefan."

"I think I know what's important," he argued, soft and still careful.

But I thought of the last time he'd made declarations to this face, blind to what truly lay behind it. I exhaled a breath and pulled my hands from his. I looked to the crushed pinecone, pieces stuck to my palm, rather than the way his eyes and lips had fallen.

I stood, not sure where I was going, but needing to move. I ended up back at the house. Stepping over bricks, my sights were glued to the ground as I sought fallen and broken pieces of masonry beneath the leaves and twigs and spongy mosses. I could hear his footsteps behind mine. He wouldn't let me go beyond arm's length. Protective, I'd have once thought. Now I wasn't sure if that was the only reason why.

I sucked down another breath, bringing our problems to the forefront. Hoping they'd help me forget the way his lips felt pressed against my skin. "Who were Isobel and John working with?"

Stefan sighed and answered, "Themselves?"

I did my best to ignore the disappointment in his voice.

"I suppose." Isobel could have found out about the curse through her occult studies. And John would've learned through her. "Maybe I should talk to John."

"I don't think that's a good idea." Some of the Stefan I'd come to know came back, spurred on by chivalrous concern. "Damon said you think he's like you."

"Not exactly. I think something's taken over John's body, but I'm not sure what it is." I brushed my hand off on my shorts. "It talked about a being stuck in this—hell of nothingness." Stefan looked confused. I gave a small smile. "I know, it sounded crazy. But Esther said something followed me. And John was attacked on the other side by—whatever it is. It isn't human, I know that much."

"All the more reason why you shouldn't talk to it."

"But it wants to talk to me," I argued. "It might, I don't know, tell me something about what John was up to."

"If it knows."

"True." I hadn't known anything of Elena's life before waking up in her body, after all.

"Let me try," Stefan said. "If I don't get anything, then you can."

"Do you think they're…" I grimaced, "finished?"

Stefan arched a brow. "If we're going to talk to John, having Katherine distracted would be ideal."

"Oh." I rubbed my hands together, grit from the walk and the pinecone still stuck to my skin. "True."

By unspoken agreement, we left Stefan's old estate and headed back to the boarding house. A huge elephant trundling along between us the whole way.

As we approached the boarding house, Stefan cocked his head. "We should have time."

I didn't know what was more surprising. That he could hear them from all the way across the lawn, or that they were still in bed. I chose not to comment on either, following Stefan into the house.

We went straight for the door that led to the basement. Stefan opened it silently, pressing a finger to his lips and motioning me ahead.

I tiptoed as quietly as I could down the steps, Stefan moving down behind me. We reached the storage room and crossed it in silence. Stefan put a shoulder on my hand before we reached the door and stepped ahead of me. Lips pressed together, he pulled it open. It groaned. Stefan glanced upward, listening for a moment. They must not have heard us, because he swung it far enough for him to pass through.

This time he led the way through and held out a hand. He wanted me to stay near the storage room while he crossed the few feet between us and the cell. I hugged my upper arms and watched Stefan lean forward and peer inside.

Stefan's eyes widened. He unlatched the door, taking no care to keep from making noise, and disappeared into the room.

"Stefan?" I whispered.

At first, there was no answer. Then, "Elena," Stefan appeared at the doorway, mouth screwed into a grimace, eyes serious. "John's dead."

"What?" I darted down the hall and grabbed the door frame, skidding to a stop.

John was on the ground, eyes shut. Even without getting closer, I could tell he was gone. There's something about the eerie stillness of death. It's much more than just the lack of the chest rising or falling. It's a total absence of everything, even warmth, as the body settles. The skin stiffens and turns sallow as the blood drains inside and pools. Everything freezes into place, from muscles to bones to tissue and veins.

But I had to be sure. Stepping carefully inside, I looked down at John. At the torn pink and white flesh of his neck glistening in the dim light. The blood that had dried beneath him, dark and sticky against the floor. There was far less than there should have been. Careful, I crouched beside him and pressed my fingers over his wrist.

I didn't need to look for a pulse. He was cold.

My head turned to Stefan, who stared down, mouth a grim line. "Who did it?"

Stefan's eyes narrowed. "Katherine."

"Not Damon?"

"Maybe," Stefan allowed. "But he could have killed John anytime." He frowned. "It's more likely he stood and watched. Or stayed upstairs and drank."

I turned back down and stared at John. "Why?"

"Does she need a reason?" Stefan asked, bitterness darkening his tone.

Katherine caused death and chaos, but there was usually a reason behind the things she did. Manipulative, selfish reasons—but… Perhaps it had been nothing more than hunger. John had been convenient.

But perhaps not.

"Where's Zach?" I asked, turning around.

"His car was gone this morning."

"But where'd he go?"

Stefan shook his head. "I didn't ask."

Zach was right. They really didn't notice what their human servants were up to. Not even Stefan. He and Damon still must've believed Zach could be compelled.

I stood and turned around, hurrying through the storage room. Whatever had been in John was back on the Other Side. I gripped the bracelet, rubbed my thumb along the beads and charms, inordinately glad of its presence. The thought of that—thing—being able to spy on me chilled me to the core.

But right now, I had hot blood pumping through my veins, thawing my fear. Either Damon had done it, or he'd done nothing to stop it.

"Damon!" I shouted, stomping up the staircase.

Stefan kept behind me. "Elena—"

"You swore you wouldn't kill anyone, Damon!"

I reached the top and made for the stairs that led to the second level.

"Elena!" Stefan appeared in front of me, hand up. "Stop."

"He promised!" I said, angling over his shoulder and shouting. "I guess his word is worth _nothing_."

Stefan opened his mouth, then paused, turning to look up over his shoulder. He sighed.

A moment later, Damon appeared at the top of the staircase. Shirtless again, a lone pair of silk pajamas hung off his hips. "What's she yelling about?"

Stefan rubbed his forehead. "John's dead."

Damon arched a brow. "And I'm supposed to care because?"

"Did you kill him?" Eyes narrowed, I climbed the last steps between us. I could smell the sweat on his skin. The musk of sex that had my nose wrinkling.

Damon glared down his nose at me. "No. I didn't."

"The man in the basement?"

I had to lean to the side to see around Damon. Katherine strutted down the hall, legs bare beneath the silk top that partnered Damon's pants.

"Yes, the man in the basement," I said. "Did you kill him?"

"Mhmm." She stopped behind Damon, hand curling down one shoulder while she lifted up onto her toes, resting her chin on his other. "He was delicious."

My head turned, glaring accusations as my lips pinched together. "You didn't have to kill him."

"No, I didn't," she agreed, lips turning into a little smile.

As the buffer separating Katherine and I, Damon's eyes flickered between us. Stefan was wound so tightly, he practically vibrated behind me.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

I glared. "You don't do anything without a reason, Katherine."

Her hand slipped back off Damon's shoulder. She sauntered slowly around him, coming up to me, instead. I found myself reflected in her dark eyes, expression as placid as a lioness as her sights swept over my figure. "You talk like you know me." Her eyes flickered back up to mine. "But you don't."

"I know you well enough," I shot back. I took a steadying breath. "I know you won't kill me."

Her brow arched. "You didn't think that in the tomb."

"You didn't know who I was, before. You do now. I'm too valuable to kill."

She leaned forward, and a finger trailed over my collarbone. "You're assuming killing you is the worst thing I could do." Her finger came to the end of my shoulder and fell away. "It's not."

…There was that. I took a deep breath through my nose to try and slow the sudden uptick of my pulse.

Damon watched us, eyes bright and gleaming.

"You haven't heard my offer, yet," I countered, once I was sure my voice wouldn't tremble.

Katherine's brows dipped. "Offer?"

I dared a step closer to her. It felt like stepping into a tiger cage. "Are you still interested in making a deal with Klaus?"

"You don't deal with Klaus." Her eyes wandered over me again. I wasn't sure if she was trying to unnerve me or read me. Probably both. "You give him what he wants, or you die. Those are Klaus' terms."

"Then why go after the moonstone? Gather up a doppelgänger, a werewolf, and a vampire if not bargain with him?"

Katherine gave a slow blink. "I've been locked inside a tomb for over a century."

I had nothing to say to that. I bit my lip.

"But your offer has… potential," Katherine finally allowed, narrowed eyes fixed on me. "What is it you propose, exactly?"

"You give Klaus everything he needs to break the curse. And with your freedom leave Mystic Falls alone. Forever."

"You leave. And don't come back," Stefan clarified.

Katherine looked past me to Stefan. Her eyes shifted back to me. "If you can deliver what you claim."

"I'm the hardest ingredient to get, aren't I?" It was a rhetorical question, and we both knew it. "And I know where the moonstone is." Probably. Unless that was different too.

Head turning to the side as she gave a small curl of her lips, Katherine said, "We have an agreement, then." Her chin tilted up. "I hand you and the moonstone to Klaus for my freedom, and never return."

"I'll go with you, Katherine," Damon pledged.

Eyes narrowing, Katherine glanced over at him.

"Fine with me," Stefan said, folding his arms.

My heart dropped. "You swore you'd stay."

"If the tomb was empty," Damon retorted. "It wasn't."

"You never stipulated the condition of the tomb."

"Elena." Stefan took my arm. "Let him leave. We'll manage."

Katherine's head tilted further, displeasure stealing the gleam from her eyes. "You won't be coming, Stefan?"

"No, Katherine." Stefan turned to look at her. "I won't."

Katherine's lips curled into a frown. "But it's to be the three of us."

"That was what you wanted. You never gave me a choice. If it were up to me, I'd have nothing to do with you." Stefan nodded to me. "Elena insists we deal. But I'll be all too happy to never see you again."

Eyes wide, I held my breath. Katherine frowned. "That hurts, Stefan."

"I don't care," Stefan replied, voice rough with hatred.

Katherine stared at him before that intense, predatory gaze transferred to me. I realized there was a way to tell us apart. Her eyes were darker than Elena's and glittered with malice. "Hm." She moved closer. "We'll see how you feel after Klaus drains this—little shadow of mine," she turned to look at the tense vampire beside me, "Stefan."

My shoulders tightened as my stomach turned rock hard. I couldn't even swallow against the sudden rigidness in my belly.

"If that's all?" Damon said, taking hold of Katherine's hand.

Stefan shook his head. "It's not. John's body needs to be dealt with."

Damon's brows rose. "So deal with it."

"She's your problem, Damon." Stefan turned, and with a hand still around my arm, took me with him. "You clean up after her."

Stefan led me back down the stairs. It wasn't until I realized he was leading me out of the house that I asked, "What—"

"You're leaving." His tone brooked no argument.

Once outside, he guided me to the SUV. He let go at the driver's side, turning me to face him. "That was dangerous, Elena," he said, concern in the draw of his brows and the low curve of his mouth. "You shouldn't antagonize her."

My own brows pinched together. "What about you?"

Stefan shook his head. "I heal fast."

"Stefan—" I was about to protest, but what sense I had reasserted itself. "You're probably right," I admitted.

He looked taken aback by my agreement. His lips quirked upward. "Call me when you get home."

I nodded and climbed in. Before Stefan could shut the door, I asked, "What are you going to do?"

"Commune with the squirrels," he said, voice wry, and shut my door.

We shared another of those long looks that were becoming typical for the two of us. I pulled out my keys and started the car.

[ = = = ]

That afternoon Jenna and I made a trip to the police station for another fun hour of sitting in awkward silence. I spent the rest of the day finishing up Elena's homework.

It was a little after seven o'clock when the phone rang. The caller ID read Salvatore, Zachary.

"Zach?"

Damon spoke instead. "Turn on the news."

Taking the stairs, I walked into the living room and picked up the remote. Powering on the television, I asked which channel. Damon directed me to Mystic Falls' local station. A handsome reporter that epitomized telegenic spoke into a microphone. The graphic beneath him identified him as Logan Fell.

"…saying little about the remains. A tip to the Sheriff's office identified the burial site. The sheriff promises…"

"They've found Sheila and Isobel," Damon explained, annoyed, as the report continued.

I watched replayed footage of body bags being loaded into a coroner's van. "You're sure it's them."

"I know where I bury my bodies, Fake-lena. That shot's off Brookside, a half-mile's hike from where they're at. Were at."

"Maybe it's another vampire's burial ground." My god. Had my life become this? Talking about burial grounds?

"Doubt it. I'd have smelt any other bodies."

"What, like a cadaver dog?"

Damon ignored that. "It's interesting they only found two bodies. I suppose they could still stumble across John."

"How do you know one of the bodies isn't John?"

"Because the report opened stating they found two women buried off Brookside road," Damon explained, all faux patience.

"Liz could be covering up the fact they found him, too," I muttered.

"We need to do something about this council of yours," Damon replied.

"It's not my council. And you infiltrated it."

Damon hummed. "That does sound diabolically brilliant."

"Or reckless and stupid," I shot back.

"Someone's in a snit."

"Two bodies whose murder I was involved in were just dug up, Damon," I hissed into the phone. "How should I be?"

"Technically, Isobel was already dead," Damon pointed out, so unhelpfully. "Either way, don't worry. They won't find anything."

"This is the era of NCIS and DNA." I was definitely going to worry.

"This isn't my first time covering up forensic evidence, Fake-lena." I could hear Damon's impatience.

I was about to ask if he was always this much of an ass when his murder victims were uncovered—though I supposed technically they were Stefan's—when I heard the front door open. "Someone's here."

"Not me."

"Yes, Damon. I figured that," I sighed, moving back to the hallway. I rounded the doorway and took one glance down the hall towards the door.

I nearly dropped the phone.

John smiled me. "Hello, Elena."

I stared at the large bandage covering his neck, mouth open, horrified. His color was horrible. Even under the yellow houselights, he looked bleach white. "John?"

"Where the hell have you been?!" Jenna demanded as she appeared from the kitchen like an avenging valkyrie.

"Detained." He winked at me.

"Damon," I uttered into the phone, "I have to go."

"What? We have a situation—"

"John's here."

Silence, then, "What?"

"I said Uncle John's here."

"Uh, no. No he's not. Because I have his ring, Elena." There was distinct irritation mixing with confusion in his voice now. "The one that raises the dead?"

"Uh huh. I'll… call you later."

"No. You come over. Right. Now."

Uncle John was staring at me over Jenna's shoulder. "Fine." I hung up and placed the phone on the hall table. "Jenna? I'm heading over to Stefan's."

Jenna paused in her tirade against John to turn to me. "Again?"

"I'm not sure I like you going over to the Salvatore's, Elena," John said. Whatever it was, it didn't look happy.

Jenna's lips mashed together and she glared at John. "You know what? Have fun. Be back by nine."

"Okay," I said, heading off to the kitchen as fast as I could go without outright running. "Bye!" I shouted, grabbing the keys off the holder and rushing out the door. I did run, once the storm door shut behind me, all the way into the garage.

My hand shook as I stuck the key into the ignition. What the hell? How was John back? He'd been dead!

I forced myself to breathe and calm down as the garage door lifted. By the time I backed out, my heart was merely trotting instead of galloping. I eased out and started for the boarding house. Again.

It was a crisp night out. Chilly enough I kept the window up and turned the heat on. My head swam with implications. How the hell had John—or whatever was possessing John—gotten back up? More than that, it sounded as if Damon had buried him. His clothes hadn't been dirty. Where had he gotten them? What about the bandage on his neck? Was his wound still there? Didn't the ring heal wounds like that? But he hadn't had the ring, so—

A person appeared in the middle of my headlights.

I gasped, slamming the breaks and twisting the wheel hard to the right. But there would be no avoiding them.

The body thudded against the corner of the SUV's hood. Coming down like a mallet, their head cracked against the windshield. There was another thud as it flew up and over the roof. They rolled off the side of the SUV and slammed into the road.

The SUV screeched to a halt. Gripping the wheel, I stared out the windshield. Through the spiderweb of cracks spread out from where a forehead had smashed into the glass. "Oh my god," I whispered, repeating myself a few times. I turned, was about to shove the door open when…

I remembered what world I was in.

I blinked, hand resting on the door handle. This was Damon's favorite trap. Get hit and run over, then when someone runs over to check on him, grab and feed.

They had come out of literally nowhere. The road had been clear, and then someone was standing in the middle of it, looking at me.

Unless I was misremembering things in order to assuage my conscience. Had they been crossing? Mind swimming in adrenalin, making it hard to think, I wasn't sure.

"Shit, shit, shit," I whispered, uncertain what to do. I couldn't just… leave. What if it wasn't a vampire? What if I'd actually hit someone?

What if it was a vampire?

Skull buzzing, I wrestled with the question of what to do. Get out, check? Drive off? What if I left someone to die I could've helped? But in this world… I ran a hand through my hair, torn. I looked back over my shoulder.

The body was gone.

I cursed and slammed down on the gas.

The engine revved. The wheels screeched against the road. The SUV didn't move.

A fist smashed through the window. It unfurled into a hand that gripped the door.

Twisting and tearing apart, metal screamed as a yank ripped the door clean off the car. Tossed aside, it whooshed through the air. Rubber burned against concrete as spinning tires struggled to propel the SUV forward.

The hand wrenched at the seatbelt and broke it from its mooring, flinging it aside.

It grabbed onto my arm. I had the wheel in a death grip, the gas pedal pressed to the floor. I nearly broke my fingers and wrists trying to hold on when the vampire hauled me out. I ended up pressed against them in a kind of Heimlich bear hug. The swell of a chest told me my attacker was a woman.

I shouted, fear and fury powering my scream. I swung my feet with wild abandon. Each kick smashed my heels into sharp shin bones. If she flinched, I couldn't tell. She did nothing but stand there, holding my back flush against her.

Another vampire covered in a dark hoodie let go of the back of the SUV, explaining why the vehicle hadn't shot off. Not that I could've outran them.

An arm moved from beneath my ribcage and a hand wrapped around my throat. It squeezed. The breath I'd drawn all my life stopped. My eyes bulged. Frantic, my mouth gulped for air I couldn't suck in, even as my belly moved to draw it down. There was nothing.

Suffocation is a long process. It's terrifying on a primal level. A whole minute and a half passed until the need to breathe became urgent. Another thirty seconds before the night began to close in and colors danced in front of my eyes. My struggles weakened as my body and mind grew lethargic. Everything slowed, even my once frantic struggles to breathe.

And then it all went dark.


	15. Fifteen

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** CONCERNING THE POSTING SCHEDULE: This is likely the last chapter that'll come out before spring classes start. Which means I won't have the extra time to write that I've enjoyed over winter break. I'm going to shoot for a posting schedule of one chapter every week. It might vary a little less or a little more depending on how much coursework/studying I have. I hope y'all understand and forgive me for the slow down.

I was asked by a guest in reviews whether I know who Not-Elena ends up with. The answer is: yep.

Have I thanked y'all for the reviews, favorites, and follows? I have? Well, I'm doing it again! Thank you!

**Chapter Fifteen**

Fingertips trailed down my cheek, gentle as tears. Breathing made my throat ache. Swallowing felt like gulping down rocks.

I opened my eyes. I was on a bed, one with rough sheets and a blanket so thin it could've doubled as a third sheet. A man hovered above me, watching.

I jerked away, a frightened whine igniting a fire in my throat. He followed, shushing me as his hand kept hold of the lower half of my face like a mask of flesh.

"What?" I rasped through his fingers, wincing as soon as the word was free.

Then it came back to me. The accident. The car door torn aside. Being grabbed. Unable to breathe.

I sat up and scooted as far up the bed as I could manage, until my back hit the headboard. He kept after, leaning over me. Short brown hair, dark eyes, dimpled chin and a dopey smile. I didn't recognize him from the show.

I tried to avoid his face by taking in the room. Beige walls and a brown carpet that looked as if it could've doubled as a welcome mat. Heavy cream drapes covered a window the span of the wall next the door. A small round table and a few chairs were arranged in front of it. Another bed beside the one I and Mr. Personal Space were using, covered in the same crappy bedspread. A nightstand with a small lamp stood between them. A television sat on top of a dresser. Another door stood across the room from the first.

One open room, two beds, simple furnishings, big window and little door, muted color palette—the whole thing screamed motel.

Mr. Personal Space was getting closer. Too close. His face loomed, his grin widening to the point where dolls had more natural smiles. I tried leaning further away, but I was running out of room.

The second door opened, and a cloud of steam billowed out. A man in a towel followed soon after. My heart picked up. Not because of his handsome face and muscular build, but because I was with two strange men in a motel room after a kidnapping. One of which wasn't dressed. This was all going in a direction that had some of my worst fears running roughshod through my head.

But instead of joining Mister Personal Space, he saw the man leaning over me and frowned. "Jesus, Noah. Give the girl some space."

"She looks like Katherine."

My eyes flew to Noah's face. He knew Katherine?

Great.

"Whatever," towel boy replied, side-eyeing him before walking to the table and picking up a remote, powering on the television with a hiss and click. "Freak."

Noah didn't seem to care what towel boy thought. The longer he stared and petted my face, the more inclined I was to agree with towel boy.

If he thought I looked like Katherine, he already knew I wasn't her. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. The way my luck ran, probably the latter.

A few minutes later the door to the outside world opened and the first familiar face walked in, bucket of ice in one hand and a cooler in the other. She took in the room, sights stalling on me, and moved to set the bucket and cooler on the small table in front of the window.

Well. That answered the question of where the hell Anna's been.

The dark-haired vampire grabbed Noah's shoulder and pulled. He fell back with a frown. "Don't get weird."

"She looks like—"

"Katherine. I know." Anna rolled her eyes before opening the cooler and pulling out two blood bags. She tossed the first to Noah and the second to towel boy. He must be the bar tender at the Grill who worked with her on the show. The one who'd trick Bonnie. "Noah has a thing for Katherine," Anna explained, somewhat unnecessarily I thought, and dropped onto the second bed.

"He should go talk to her," I said.

Her lips thinned into a smile that acknowledged my attempt to sass her, but said I'd missed my mark. "See, that's the thing." Gripping the edge of the bed, she leaned forward. "You idiots let out a vampire who wasn't even _in_ the tomb."

Harsh laughter came from towel boy's corner of the room.

"She was in the tomb." I scanned the room, looking for any way out. With three vampires between me and the door, nope.

"No. She wasn't." Anna launched off the bed, agitation in every short step. "Not originally."

Noah dropped into her spot on the bed, staring at my face.

He was creeping me out so thoroughly, it took a moment for Anna's words to register. "Wait—what do you mean, not originally?"

"I mean she wasn't sealed inside back in eighteen sixty-four, because I saw her in nineteen eighty-three." Anna's hand clenched into a fist. "She left the rest of them to rot while she roamed free."

"But she was inside."

"She must've found out the Salvatore brothers were unsealing it." Anna shrugged. "No idea how. Or why she'd go to the trouble of sealing herself in. Or trust those two morons not to screw it up." She stopped to stare down at me. "Doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is opening it again."

I realized I'd been talking to Anna as if I knew her. Which I did. Kind of. But she didn't know that. "Who are you? Why do you want it open?"

"Anna," she said. "And my mothers in there."

"If you wanted to get your mother out, all you had to do was ask," I said.

Anna's eyes narrowed. "Unless your boyfriend already murdered her."

"Stefan didn't stake everyone inside." Not the best defense.

Grabbing my arm, Anna hauled me off the bed. She wasn't gentle. I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out. "You better hope he didn't kill my mother," she said, dragging me across the room to the door opposite of the one that lead outside. As she opened it, I had a glimpse of plain white tiles, a sink with a mirror hanging above, and a tub. A draft of humid air wafted over me. "Or you're dead."

I nearly slipped on the damp tiles as Anna shoved me inside and slammed the door. I backed up to the edge of the tub, sitting on it.

At least I was away from Noah.

* * *

It was dark by the time Anna and the other two vampires came and got me. I shot up from my seat on the covered toilet, wondering if she'd come to kill me. My throat was still sore, though it no longer felt like I was swallowing glass. Which was good, as I choked back a shout as she grabbed my arm and jerked me up onto my feet.

"I can move on my own," I told her as she hauled me along. "I'm not stupid enough to try to outrun any of you."

Anna didn't listen. She kept a bruising hold on my arm as she dragged me through the room and out into a car. She shoved me into the back. With Noah.

I scooted as close to the door as I could manage. Noah followed, grinning at me all the while.

It made for a fun ride, if endless anxiety and a creepy vampire breathing down your neck all the while is someone's idea of fun. Someone twisted. I wasn't there yet.

When Anna turned off onto a road leading into the forest, I couldn't help but stiffen in my seat. My stomach flipped and sweat gathered at the nape of my neck. Why take someone you'd kidnapped to the middle of the woods? Not for any wholesome reason.

Weirdly, the sight of tombstones rising out of the ground calmed me somewhat. I realized where we were. Or Anna had her own special burial ground for her victims.

Had to admit, no one would blink if a body turned up buried out here. Or given how old the cemetery was, maybe they would.

We parked and Noah pulled me across the seat out of the car. He was handsy as he 'escorted' me through the graveyard and to the path to the church. I tried to worm out of his hold, but he was too quick to let me escape. I shuddered at the feel of his hand running down my arms, my spine. He cupped my neck in a gesture that was more threatening than intimate.

There was no flashlight, and the trees threw too many shadows to see by moonlight. I ended up tripping practically every other step. This gave Noah more chances to manhandle me.

I'd never been happier to see anything as I was to spot the church ruins.

That happiness drained away the further down the small spiral of stairs we went, until we reached the tomb's entrance chamber. The stairs were pitch black, and I would have taken them at a tumble if I hadn't ended up half-way carried by Noah. I couldn't see any better in the chamber. I stepped on a raised portion of ground, some pile of dirt or debris, that rolled my ankle and sent me crashing painfully to my knees.

I felt the sting of cuts right away and I clenched my teeth, as if that might keep the vampires' teeth shut, too. Standing as quick as I could, I brushed my hands of the small rocks and dirt that had embedded themselves in my palms and grimaced. The small hairs on the back of my neck rising told me someone was watching.

The click of a lighter ignited a small glow around Anna's face before she put it to one of the leftover torches. She then picked it up, carrying it over to the others, touching the tips of each until the entire chamber glowed.

"What now?" I asked. They didn't have the grimoire or the crystal. What did she expect to do?

"We wait," Anna said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

Great.

At least Noah wasn't rubbing his hands all over me. Disgusted, I sunk down to the dirt and rested my back against the wall. Ignoring the chill of the stone, I brought up my knees and hugged my legs. My palms stung and knees smarted, and I had an aching ankle to add to my bruised throat.

Time passed and sitting through it felt like watching paint dry. If the paint were made of blood. Anna kept pacing, which wasn't helping my nerves. Neither was the obsessive staring of Noah and the occasional hungry glances of towel boy.

Finally, as an hour crept up on us, Anna's head tilted. "Noah."

Noah nodded and disappeared, and I took the first easy breath I'd had since waking up. Aware something was happening, but not certain what, I let my arms fall and, ignoring the protest of my ankles and knees, stood up.

The scraping crunching of footsteps on the stairs pulled my gaze to the opening that led up to the surface. Eventually, two sets of legs appeared. The first set led to a torso, then eventually revealed a familiar face pinched with worry. "Stefan!"

Stefan's eyes roamed over me. There was no hint of a leer as he looked over my body, only concern. "Are you alright?"

I was bruised and scared but walking and talking. "More or less."

He didn't like that answer. His expression hardened as he turned to Anna. "Annabelle."

"You remember me," Anna said, letting her arms fall to the sides and moving away from the wall.

Stefan gave a single nod. "I thought you—"

"Was one of the vampires you staked in the tomb? No, Stefan. I've been out. Like Katherine." Anna stalked towards him. "Mother wasn't so lucky."

"Like Katherine?" Stefan asked, skepticism bringing lowering his brows.

"Yes, Stefan. Like Katherine. My mother's the one whose been rotting all these years." Anna got up into his face and glared as she said, "You took the wrong woman out of the tomb."

Stefan met her furious glare with a steady gaze. "Let Elena go. She has nothing to do with this."

"Except as leverage for you and your brother." Anna's eyes narrowed. "But I guess with Katherine back, Damon's got no use for her."

Damon knew I was in trouble but had stayed behind? With Katherine? My throat tightened as if Anna were choking me again. I swallowed despite the bruising.

How stupid of me to think he'd care enough to come.

"What do you want, Annabelle?" Stefan's question drew my focus back onto him and Anna.

"It's Anna. And I want my mother out of the tomb."

Stefan's brow furrowed as he thought. "I can get you the spell to drop the seal, but the crystal is used up."

Anna frowned. In an instant she was at my side, hand back around my throat. I choked, and despite knowing I was no match for her, I grabbed and scratched at her hand and arm anyway. "Then you'd better find another way of powering the spell." She shook me and pain exploded from the bruising still fresh on my neck. "Or I swear, Salvatore, I'll rip her pretty little head off."

Stefan held up his hands, palms out. "Alright! I'll find something else." His gaze turned imploring, "But let her go."

Anna pursed her lips as if thinking it over before shrugging with a smile that failed to reach her eyes. "Okay."

She dragged me over to the tomb door and, right as I realized what she intended, shoved me through the opening. My arms shook as the ground slapped against my hands, disturbing the already raw scratches along my palm. The only light was a slender golden rectangle flowing in from the chamber. Beyond lie absolute blackness and the dead.

I turned to scurry out, only to find Anna glaring down at me, hand curled into a fist. I stilled like a rabbit under the deadly eye of a hunting hound.

"What are you doing?" Stefan demanded.

"Until mother is out, your little girlfriend is going to keep her company."

Looking around Anna, I met Stefan's worried stare.

I knew we should have shut the damn door.

A grunt from Noah drew everyone's attention. The fist through his chest, heart in hand, kept it. We stared in shock as dark veins crawled up his graying neck, including Noah himself. When the hand disappeared back with a squelch, sending Noah's body crumpling to the floor, Katherine appeared in his place.

Towel boy barely moved in her general direction, and she punched through his chest as easily.

As her second lackey died, Anna appeared behind Stefan, holding him in front of her. She forced him to sidestep along with her until they reached the tomb's opening. Katherine's high heels ground against the dirt floor as she slowly followed. "He won't protect you."

"But you won't hurt him," Anna said.

A single brow arched indolently. "Won't I?" Katherine asked.

Anna considered. Apparently unwilling to risk it, she pulled Stefan back into the tomb with her, pushing me further back from the opening.

Katherine's eyes narrowed as she stepped right up to the line of the spell. She looked down, examining the groove marks on the floor before her sights glided back up. "You got what you wanted," she began, sounding bored with the whole ordeal. "Reunited with mommy."

"Screw you, Katherine," Anna said.

"Not my type." Katherine's head tilted to the side, sending her cascade of brown curls spilling over her shoulder. "But now that I think of it, this works out for me."

"How is that?" Stefan asked.

"Because she," Katherine indicated me with a graceful gesture of her hand, "can't go and get herself in more trouble before Klaus arrives." Her sights shifted to Stefan. "Don't worry, Stefan. I'll get you out." Her lips curled into a smirk. "Once Klaus is finished with my doppelgänger."

Stefan sped up to the opening but was held back by some invisible barrier. He bared his teeth in a growl, slamming at the air with his fists.

Katherine eyed the three of us, and apparently pleased with what she'd found, turned to the tomb's door. Gripping the edges, her face finally contorted into an expression other than boredom as she struggled to push against the huge block of stone. With the slow grind of rock and dirt, the door began to close.

"Can she do that?" I wondered, voice heightened by a tense note of hysteria. "I thought it could only be shut with magic."

"The magic must be in the barrier," Stefan answered, his own voice deep and grim. "Not the door. And she's obviously strong enough to move it."

Katherine gave a little wink. Soon we had a mere crack of light. A second later, door shut.

It wasn't just that it was dark. It was absence. It was as if the abyss had risen and swallowed us. If not for the stone beneath our feet, it would have been as if we were floating in a void. As it was, we merely stood in it.

I slid my foot across the darkness till I bumped into something nearby. Not as unyielding as rock, but not as giving as flesh. Firm and hard. A shoe? "Stefan?"

"No." Anna snapped.

"Here." A hand took mine. I gripped it tight and fought the urge to tuck into his side.

"What do we do?" I asked.

The scraping of footsteps disturbed the darkness. "I'm finding mother." Anna's steps paused. "You'd better hope you didn't stake her, Stefan."

"Katherine wants Elena alive."

"I don't really care what Katherine wants," Anna said, harsh and defiant.

"You can see?" I asked Stefan.

"Not well enough to identify a body," Stefan said. "We need to work together, Anna."

A beleaguered sigh cut through the blackness. She was up ahead of us. Eight or so feet, I guessed. "To do what? The door is on the other side of the seal. We can't dig our way out because the barrier extends around the whole tomb."

"Let's worry about getting some light, first."

"For your pet human?" I could hear Anna's sneer.

"You won't find your mother if you can't make out her face," Stefan said. He made a good point.

Anna must have thought so too. "Fine."

Light was going to be hard to come by. We hadn't left a torch behind. I didn't have my flashlight. I didn't even have my keys. They were still in the SUV.

Then I remembered Anna lighting the torches. "She has a lighter."

"It won't burn indefinitely," she said.

Stefan moved forward, keeping hold of my hand. I could either follow or stay by myself. I kept as close to him as I could without stepping on his heels.

Stefan and Anna must've seen well enough to navigate. We moved without bumping into any walls or doorways.

"Stop."

Anna's voice sounded from somewhere ahead. "Admiring your handiwork?"

"We need something to burn." Stefan squeezed my hand before carefully extracting himself from my grip. "Stay here."

As his footsteps led further away, I wrapped my arms around myself. I squinted, as if I'd magically be able to make Stefan out the further away he got from me, when I couldn't see him even as he'd held my hand. There were shapes in the darkness, but I was fairly certain it was my own mind oh-so helpfully conjuring them.

I hoped so, anyway.

He stopped a short way ahead. "Let me see that lighter."

There was a rustling of cloth and then the slap of something hard meeting skin.

"Thank you," Stefan said. He walked back towards me, but instead of meeting back up with me, he stopped halfway. Another rustle of clothing sounded in the dark. And then, the grind and click of the lighter.

Stefan's face leapt out of the darkness, floating in the small circle of firelight like a disembodied head. As he moved the lighter down, I could see he'd crouched down next to one of the dead-dead vampires he'd staked the last time we'd visited this damned place.

Twisting the lighter to the side, he touched it to the lace sleeve of the vampire's dress, until it began to burn.

It started as a small flame, but as if the corpse had been doused in gasoline, the fire whooshed up her arm and spread over her whole body in moments. Still crouched, Stefan inched back to leave a careful distance between himself and the fire greedily lapping at the remains. Greasy black smoke rose into the air that smelt like burnt ham. Gorge rose in my throat.

I covered my mouth and nose as I looked at the body. "How long will she burn?"

"Not long," he said, standing. "If we gather up clothes to burn, we should have some extra time."

"Going to add arms and legs like firewood?" Anna stood at the light's edge, arms crossed beneath her chest. "Toss in a head?"

"If you have a better idea," Stefan arched a brow.

She walked over to another body and grabbed its arm. By the time I realized what she was doing, she'd pulled the limb off with the cracking pop of a dislocated joint. When she stuck her fingers beneath the skin to either side of the bone I managed to look away in time. I couldn't turn as easily from the sounds of skin and muscle being shucked like peeling the husk off an ear of corn.

When I heard the louder tear of fabric, I looked over. Anna was ripping large swaths of fabric from the corpse's dress, wrapping the strips around the end of the bone in her hand. When she came over to the burning body, flames already shrunk as they burned through the vampire's dry flesh like paper, she held a makeshift torch. She touched the fabric wrapped end to the fire and waited until it caught.

As soon as the fire had spread around the whole of the wrapped end, she turned to Stefan. "I'm finding mother."

If Stefan was at all put off by the grisly light, I couldn't tell. I didn't think he was holding back his revulsion. I, on the other hand, tried to ignore what the handle was made of. It wasn't easy. "I'll help."

"I think you've done enough helping in here," Anna shot back.

"You know all these vampires couldn't be released back into the town."

"Why?" Anna whirled about and strode across the chamber. Stefan stood and followed. I hurried after. Anna paused at each vampire in a dress, holding the firelight close enough to examine their faces. "Because they'd kill people?"

Stefan let his frown answer.

Anna scoffed. "You have serious issues, you know that?"

"Because he doesn't want to see people murdered?" I demanded.

Anna spun about. Her eyes narrowed as she stared me down. "Do you have any idea who your boyfriend is?"

"We aren't dating. And, yes. I know."

"Really?" Anna looked to Stefan. "You told her about Monterey?"

"She knows," Stefan said.

Anna gave a disbelieving laugh. "And you're still holding his hand?" she asked me. She shook her head, going back to her search. "You both have issues."

Stefan and I exchanged a glance.

She wasn't wrong.

We followed quietly after Anna as she examined the rest of the dead-dead vampires. I knew we were nearing the remaining desiccated as the whispering began. When we reached the chamber where Stefan had been interrupted, red eyes opened.

Anna kept her distance as she examined these faces.

"What did you mean, earlier, when you said Katherine wasn't originally in the tomb?" Stefan asked.

"Just what I said. She wasn't in the tomb."

"But Damon and I—"

"Look, I've been over this with her," Anna nodded to me. "I don't know why or how, but Katherine must have entered the tomb before you opened it."

"Willingly trapping herself?" Stefan's voice was thick with skepticism.

"I'm not the Katherine Whisperer, alright? I have no idea why the backstabbing bitch does what she does." Anna waved the torch over the next female vampire. "All I can tell you is I saw her in Chicago in nineteen eighty-three, very much un-entombed and not desiccated."

Stefan's eyebrows dipped so low it was a wonder they didn't cover his eyes.

When we entered the last chamber, something occurred to me. "Stefan. I think she's right." At Stefan's glance, I said, "Think about it. Katherine's dress didn't have a speck of dust on it. She looked as if she were sleeping, not drained of life like," I waved my hand around, "all the rest."

Stefan's eyes were hard as emeralds in the torchlight. "Another scheme," he muttered.

"Mama!"

Anna knelt beside one of the vampires, hands on her shoulders, tears in her eyes.

To me, Pearl was unrecognizable. Her flesh was sunken and gray, the rest of her covered in so much dust even her black hair looked white. The only vaguely human part of her was the pained frown on her face. She was on the floor, propped up against the wall, as if she'd sat down one day and stopped moving all together.

Anna reached up and wiped at her eyes. My throat tightened at the sight, reigniting the aches of the day. But seeing Anna with her mother, I thought I could understand why she'd done it. She'd been desperate. What would I do to see my mother again? The thought made my own eyes burn with tears.

I blinked to clear my sights, but as I looked where Anna and Pearl had been, I discovered it was just Pearl instead. My arm was grabbed, and I was forced forward.

"Let her go!" Stefan demanded, anger sharpening his words as he stepped forward to confront her.

Anna met him with a shove that sent him crashing into the opposite wall.

"Stefan!"

"I'm centuries older than you," Anna sneered. She turned to me. "And I decided a long time ago that Gilbert blood would bring mother back."

Before I could protest, even so much as tell her I wasn't actually a Gilbert, Anna brought my wrist to her mouth and bit.

A shock bolted down my arm and hit my nervous system, but it wasn't pain. Not entirely. Warmth spread out from the fluttering in my stomach to the throbbing ache in my wrist. As soon as I realized I'd _liked_ what she'd done, the fluttering turned acidic, and the warm tingles became unbearable. I tried to pull away, to hunch over myself, to hide, but Anna's hold was unbreakable.

She roughly thrust my arm into Pearl's dried mouth. It was like touching aged leather. The whispers of the other vampires became a cacophony in my mind. I could barely think over the dozen voices hissing at me.

And then Pearl's teeth latched onto my wrist.

A feverish wave had me breaking out in shivers and brought me to my knees. I bit my lip and tried to concentrate on the cool touch of stone beneath me, the rough texture of the rock, instead of the tingling sparks that kept flooding my nerves as blood was pulled from my body. Something was seriously wrong with me. I dropped my head, wishing I could press my face to the floor to rid myself of the flush—whether I was red from the pleasure or the shame of it, I couldn't say.

Either way, it was a relief when the steadily building weight of exhaustion pushed me to the ground.

"Stop! You're killing her!"

Hands gripped my upper arms, wrenching me back. I made a noise of protest as the teeth tore further through my skin. I don't know if it was from the pain or that the feeding had stopped.

I was pulled up against a warm and solid body. The smell of copper filled my nose before something hot and wet splashed against my tongue.

I swallowed reflexively. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever tasted. Like sucking on pennies.

It took a few more seconds before I realized I was drinking blood.

"Mmph!" I turned my head from the bleeding wrist at my mouth.

Stefan pulled his arm away. He angled my face up, hands brushing my hair aside as he studied my face. He let out a relieved breath. "I'm sorry, Elena. But she'd taken too much blood." He looked up to glare at the two vampires sitting across from me.

Pearl was already more recognizably human in appearance. Her skin held a healthier, if still pale, color, and her eyes had settled back to a natural brown.

"Annabelle," she whispered.

Anna gave a tearful laugh as she hugged the now sensate and more lively Pearl. Pearl laid her head against the top of Anna's, closing her eyes as she breathed deeply.

A combination of mortification from being fed on, my reactions to it, and the sheer joy of the mother and daughter drove me to look away. I studied my wrist instead. It was completely healed. I touched my throat and, for the first time since waking, felt no pain as I swallowed or pressed with my fingers.

By the time I was done inspecting how quickly Stefan's blood had healed me, Pearl's eyes reopened.

"Stefan Salvatore." Pearl's gaze found me. Anger hardened her features. "Katherine," she hissed, moving Anna aside and starting to stand.

"No, mama," Anna said, arms still around Pearl's neck, tears streaming down her face. "That's not Katherine. It's a human girl who looks like her. Elena Gilbert."

Recognition sharpening her gaze, Pearl stared at me with new understanding. "A doppelgänger." Before I could wonder that she knew of doppelgängers, she asked Anna, "How long?"

Anna's face fell. "A hundred and forty-five years."

Pearl's eyes widened. Her mouth opened but she said nothing. I don't think she knew what to say. I wouldn't.

I sat up under my own power, and once I was sure I'd be steady on my feet, stood. I clenched and relaxed my hand, amazed at how much better I felt than I had minutes before. Rubbing my wrist, I looked around the chamber, at the red eyes gleaming in the low firelight.

We couldn't wait for Katherine to come back. I couldn't. There was too much I had to tell Klaus, had to arrange, before he killed me.

But there wasn't another exit besides the door we'd used to come in. Just walls, the occasional desiccated vampire, the floor, and the ceiling. The magical barrier had to extend around more than just the door. The vampires hadn't been able to dig their way out.

The vampires couldn't.

Maybe a human could.

I stared up. "How far do you think it is from the ground to the top of the ceiling?"

With a few soft taps of his shoes, Stefan stepped beside me. "A few feet, maybe. Four or five at most."

"The barrier surrounds the walls," Pearl said, voice still raspy from disuse.

I looked down over my shoulder at her. "A barrier that keeps vampires in. Not humans." Or whatever I was.

Her eyes widened, understanding gleaming within. She looked up. "If we collapse the ceiling…"

"I can dig the rest of the way out. Maybe." I turned back around. "It's worth a try."

"If the room doesn't fill with dirt," Anna said.

"Then we'll clear it." Stefan nodded to me. "Build something Elena can stand on." His gaze swept across all of us. "Unless you want to wait for Katherine to come back."

No one liked that idea, except maybe Pearl. From the look on Pearl's face, I didn't think Katherine would be very happy to find her old friend waiting for her. Not if she liked her eyes un-gouged. "Katherine is still in Mystic Falls?"

"Yes, mama," Anna said. "She just returned."

"Hmm." Pearl's murderous expression eased into something more neutral. She stood up to look around the room. "We need to move the rest." She glided to a vampire, picking her up and walking to the hall in a swish of silk skirts.

Anna immediately moved to do as her mother bid. Stefan frowned. "Stay here." It was a gentle order, but an order nonetheless. He crossed and knelt down beside another vampire, picking him up.

There weren't many left in the room. Half a dozen now that Pearl was awake. It took them two trips to clear them out to the chamber down the hall.

Once the others were moved, Pearl, Anna, and Stefan began studying the ceiling. Anna held the torch aloft while Pearl and Stefan walked the perimeter of the room. "We should be able to collapse the center," Pearl said.

Stefan nodded his agreement. "But how to get past the spell?"

Lifting her skirts to mid-shin, two leather boots laced a few inches past her ankles appeared on Pearl's feet. She crouched, undoing the laces with expert fingers before prying the heeled boots off. Pearl set them aside and stood. "Like this." A thunderous crack echoed throughout the room. The floor beneath her foot was crushed as if the stone had been pulverized by a jackhammer. Pearl shifted through the larger pieces until she held a stone twice the size of her head. "Each of you take one. We'll throw them at the same time."

Stefan and Anna followed her directions, choosing their own considerable rocks and picking them up like they weighed no more than golf balls. "From three?" Stefan suggested.

Pearl nodded and turned to me. "Wait in the hall."

I wasn't about to argue with the lady who could crack a stone floor.

Once I was in the hall, Pearl started the countdown. When they got down past one, they moved too fast for my eye to track. The rocks were in their hands one moment, the next came thunderous booms. Detritus of dust and bits of rock fell from a few spots in the ceiling, but it held up.

"Again," Pearl commanded.

This repeated quite a few times. Once a bigger piece of the ceiling fell, a chunk the size of my bag, but it wasn't large enough to cave in the earth above. The compacted dirt stayed aloft above the hole.

It took six throws in all before the stone finally gave way in the center. A section as large as the hood of the SUV came down in a great crash soon swallowed by an avalanche of dirt collapsing down after it like an earthen waterfall. A cloud rose in its wake, billowing across the room. Even after the main bulk of earth had fallen, little rivulets of dirt streamed down, pattering on the floor.

The three vampires stood by me in the hall, untouched.

We studied the resulting pile of dirt.

"That's not going to be high enough to reach the ceiling, let alone dig past it," Anna observed.

"I'll hold her up," Stefan said.

We all trooped back into the chamber, mindful of the still crumbling hole. "Guess I dig with my hands?" I said, uncertain as I stared up at the darkness beyond the broken ceiling.

"Here." Pearl punched into the floor, pulling part of a stone block free. While I blinked at that show of strength, she hit it again from the side, slicing it in half. She lifted the top, a piece about half an inch thick and a little wider than my hand, passing it to me.

I accepted it with a small thanks. Stefan and I walked to the mound of dirt. He tested it first, feet sinking as if stepping on sand, but stopping once his foot reached ankle-depth. He climbed half-way up before holding a hand out to me and pulling me up next to him. The soil felt like a mixture of sand and clay, which would be interesting to dig through.

Once we reached the top, some three feet high, Stefan secured his footing. He looked to me. "Ready?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

Stefan flashed a smile before gripping my waist. And then I was airborne, held aloft in a way I hadn't been since I was a little kid.

"I'm going to put you on my shoulders."

"Even after watching cheer practice?" I couldn't help the nerves that leaked into my voice.

"Use the ceiling to balance," he advised before lifting me straight up over his head.

Maneuvering was awkward since I didn't want to kick him in the face, but I managed to get both feet on his shoulders. I could reach the edge of the ceiling, and like he suggested, used it to help me balance as I slowly and carefully stood up.

If only Caroline could see me now. Balancing on Stefan's shoulders like a real cheerleader. Well, almost. I had a hand dug into the dirt for stability. I closed my eyes and angled my head down as my other hand used my makeshift shovel to shove into and scrape free the dirt.

The earth rained down on me like I was under a freaking shower. I kept scraping. Huge clumps would sometimes drop, occasionally with a rock or two buried within them. I didn't stop. They couldn't do this, and I wasn't spending one moment longer in the tomb than I absolutely had to. If I wanted out, that meant digging.

My arm tired and I switched hands. My hair and shoulders were covered in so much dirt, I probably would be washing it out for days. But the higher I got, the more moisture I felt. "I think I'm getting close."

"Taking you long enough," Anna said.

"Hush, Annabelle," Pearl scolded.

She wasn't wrong, though. It was taking time. "You okay, Stefan?"

"Fine," he said, hand squeezing my leg where he held it. "But let me know if you need a break."

I didn't want to spend any longer down here than I had to. Shaking my head, I said, "I can keep going."

And I did. Switching arms again when my left began to tire.

But it was slow, frustrating, dirty work. And my right arm was beginning to grow sore. I was thinking about that break when something in the texture of dirt beneath my hands changed. It was stringy, and hard, against my fingertips. Digging it away, I brought it to my eyes and squinted in the dim firelight to see what it was.

Roots.

"I'm close!" Excitement renewed my strength and I redoubled my efforts. I had to extend my arm out all the way to scrape at the top of the hole I'd created. Finally, my makeshift shovel seemed to catch along something rougher. And touching it, I felt more roots. Dozens of them. I stabbed at them with the pointed end of the rock and felt them give just enough for my fingers to poke through.

On the other side were long, wet blades of grass.

"Higher, Stefan! I feel grass!"

Stefan shifted his hold, grabbing my thighs and lifting me up.

I stabbed the little hole my hand had made a bit wider and grabbed at the edges and pulled as hard as I dared. A side of the top came tumbling down. A single, thready beam of light pierced the shadows. A thin ray that shone a spot of yellow the floor.

"Careful," Stefan warned as I began tearing at the edges of the hole to widen it. "You still have to crawl out."

"Don't need the ground giving way as soon as you get up," Anna added.

"I'll catch you if that happens," Stefan promised.

I tried to compromise by making the hole only as wide as absolutely necessary for me to fit through. "Okay. Can you lift me any higher?"

"Yes, but I'll have to toss you a little."

I hand my hands gripping the grass of the outside. Almost there. "Do it."

I felt his hands leave me for a terrifying moment, and then they were back, gripping my shins and pushing me up.

Heart racing, I squirmed between the walls of dirt. Some of it stayed solid while other portions gave way and fell. I wriggled up until my arms were all the way out and could feel the breeze of fresh air. I spread them, and let my head emerge.

Daylight.

I had no idea where I was, but I saw grass, and trees stretching towards a dim, overcast sky. The first dreary day in Mystic Falls I'd seen.

It was beautiful.

"I'm out!"

I could hear them speaking below but couldn't make out what they were saying. Not with my body still stuck in the hole I'd dug.

Stefan's hands moved once again, this time to my feet. He was pushing me upward. I used my arms to help him, glad Elena was strong enough to hold her own body weight. With a little grunting and shimmying, I was out to my waist when Stefan had to let go. Legs dangling, I grabbed onto the grass and pulled the rest of my body out, which was pretty simple once my hips were through.

Mindful that I was basically standing on a bunch of dirt over a huge cavernous hole, I crawled rather than stood up and walked. I shifted around on all fours, peering back down into the hole I created. Pearl and Anna had joined Stefan beneath the hole, and all three vampires stared up at me, faces lit by sunshine.

"I'll get help," I promised.

"You can't go to Damon," Stefan warned. "He won't believe you about Katherine."

"I know." I took a breath. "I thought I might try Richmond."

Stefan's face blanked. "Is that really wise?"

"We need witches to break the barrier spell. Bonnie isn't speaking to me, and wouldn't know how, anyway. Elijah knows the Martins." I sighed. "I'll add another condition to the agreement."

Stefan's face was still smooth, but something of his unhappiness with the plan leaked into his eyes. "It'll take time to contact Elijah."

"A day. Maybe two." I bit my lip before adding, "Lets hope it's before Katherine gets word to Klaus."

"You're going to need a guide," Stefan said. "Here." Stefan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tossed it up.

I didn't grab it in time.

Anna caught it before it hit the floor and gave me a _look_. "Really?"

"I don't have the best hand-eye coordination, okay," I shot back.

She tossed it to Stefan, who had no problem catching it out of the air. He looked up. "You can do it."

Anna moved in place to catch it again.

She needn't have. I managed to fumble enough to clutch the phone to my chest. Holding it out, I looked down at it. Another old-fashioned model. To me, at least. "Who should I call?"

Stefan smiled, and when he told me the name of my would-be guide, I smiled too.


	16. Sixteen

**The More Things Change  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Notes:** Wow. So, my hope of a chapter every week was _clearly_ way too optimistic. Sorry. My classes this term have been especially demanding. Plus, this chapter was being difficult. But I kicked it a few times and finally got something to fall together. Hope y'all enjoy!

kimchi759 asked the age of the protagonist. She's around twenty-five.

**Chapter Sixteen**

Anna's car made it to Richmond in a little under two hours. By the time I reached the city's outer limits, dark clouds as big as the city itself hovered menacingly overhead. Besides the scent of exhaust and concrete, the promise of rain lay in heavy in the wind that blew through the window. Merging into the thickening traffic felt a bit like coming home. Except here I knew nothing and no one.

Smart phones weren't a thing. Not yet. Which meant no GPS app to guide me. I had to pull over at a gas station and ask the attendant for directions to the nearest inexpensive motel.

The place was called Eden, but the long, two story building looked as far from paradise as one could get. At fifty dollars a night, I couldn't say it surprised me. I paid with the cash I'd pulled from Stefan's bank card.

The room itself was a throwback to the seventies. A faded shag carpet that might've been tan once. Orange chairs and a table covered in scratches. Wallpaper with repetitive curved shapes that reminded me of a flower bud in an acid-inspired array of faded colors. The only thing that'd been updated was the television—sometime in the late nineties.

Texting the name of the motel and the room number, I collapsed back on the bed. With nothing more to do until nightfall, I went ahead and turned on the television. The local news lulled me off to sleep.

* * *

Rain drummed against the roof of the motel, so loud I almost slept through the knocking at the door. Smoothing my hair, I got out of bed and checked the peephole. The blonde on the other side had her jacket up over her head as sheets of slanted rain poured down.

I pulled the door open and stepped aside to make room. "Come in."

"Thanks." She hurried inside and the jacket dropped down.

Lexi Branson was as big a force of nature in person as she'd been on television. From a face made to smile easily and often to the self-confident way she carried herself, she was the kind of person it was easy to like on the spot.

Shaking off her jacket, she turned to set it on the back of the chair. "Hi I'm—oh my god." Mouth open and half-turned around, Lexi stilled and stared.

I left the obvious sarcastic reply of, 'Nope, Elena,' go unsaid. "Human and not Katherine."

Mouth closing, Lexi pulled herself back together. "Right." She took another long, assessing look. I could almost hear the crap she was going to give Stefan the next time they spoke.

But right now she was dripping all over the carpet. Not that the carpet hadn't seen much worse, but Lexi was soaked. "Want a towel?"

"That'd be great."

I went to the small bathroom and grabbed the thin, skin-scraping excuse for a towel the motel offered off its rack. "Sorry." I handed it over. "It's the only ones they have."

She lifted it and said, "Born in the sixteen hundreds. Trust me, I've used worse." After wiping off her face, she wrapped her hair up. "So. How does being in Richmond while Stefan's stuck in Mystic Falls help?"

After introducing myself as Stefan's friend on the phone, I had explained his situation. It was the reason Lexi agreed to drive out to Virginia to help someone she'd never met. "You've heard of the Originals?"

Lexi's lips thinned. "Heard of, sure. They're like a bedtime story for vampires. Big bad granddaddies." Head turning, she treated me to a skeptical side-eye. "I'm not going to like what comes next, am I?"

"Probably not." Grim, I sat on the edge of the room's single bed across from the room's chair. "I need to get into contact with one. Elijah."

"Uh huh." Lexi followed, sinking into the chair. "And this Elijah is in Richmond?"

"I don't know where he is." At her frown, I hurried to add, "But someone who knows how to contact him is here."

"Still not sure where I come in."

I ran my fingers through my hair. "I don't know his name. Or where he lives."

"And you think I do?" One of her eyebrows ticked upward. "I'm guessing this mysterious connection is a vampire. You realize we don't all know each other?"

"I think you'll know this one, or someone who does." I folded my legs underneath me. "He's a student here. Probably at the University. He was turned only a few decades ago and now spends his time earning degrees. He also researches other vampires. He hangs out at a café with tempered glass that allows him to be out during the day."

"Sounds like Slater," Lexi admitted after a moment.

That was it! I beamed. "That's him!" Hands braced on my knees, I leaned forward. "You know how to contact him?"

"Sure." Turning her head slightly, Lexi stared out the corner of her eyes. "You knew all that about him, but not his name?"

"I'm not good with names."

Lexi hummed before settling back in her chair, eyes squinted in thought. "How'd you hear about him?"

I wrung my hands together. "From someone else who was looking for Elijah." True enough that I wasn't lying. Not exactly.

Lexi's eyes flicked over my face. The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile that failed to crinkle her eyes. "Better get this show on the road." Leaning to the side, she dug in her jeans for her phone.

* * *

Driving in an unfamiliar city during a storm doing its best to imitate a hurricane at night was not my idea of fun. I spent the ride squinting through the water sluicing down the windshield, looking for street signs.

I was right about Slater attending Richmond University, but he lived closer to the heart of the city, near a bunch of high-end shops and restaurants. While a few high rises stood resolute against the driving wind and rain, we ended up in a more 'historic' center of downtown. Here brick was the building material of choice and the sidewalk had been paved around trees that must've been centuries old. On a clear day I was sure it would be lovely, but at night during a raging storm, the trees howled as their branches whipped to the side, shedding leaves like a dog with mange.

I kept waiting for the storm to relent, but the rain refused to let up. The small waterfall cascading down the windshield nearly made me miss the turn. "There," Lexi said, pointing to a narrow driveway that dipped into a parking garage. I had to break hard and fast to keep from cruising past, causing the tires to slide on the rain-slick street and a car behind me to honk. Grimacing, I guided Anna's car down the slight incline that led to a parking lot built beneath the building. I felt like I could finally breathe easy as soon as the wipers cleared away the last of the rain from the glass.

There were a handful of empty spots to park in. Once the car halted, Lexi was undoing her seatbelt. I hurried after.

The apartment building was what I would call 'Industrial Deconstructed Chic.' It played at looking like something condemned and abandoned but was so deliberate about it that it came off as artificial. Plaster had been partially laid down, but not fully and with several gaps, letting the underlying brickwork show. The stairs were concrete, and their steel railings were a glossy black. The air was fresh, no hint of mold or rot.

Lexi and I climbed the stairs to the top, to a set of double doors where the paint had been sanded off in spots. Lexi knocked.

Muffled footsteps approached. There was a rattle of metal and a door swung inward.

In a baggy t-shirt, loose jeans, and a hoodie, Slater was the most unvampiric of the vampires I'd met so far. His brown hair was trimmed, but I doubt a comb had touched it since he'd woken. He sported several days' worth of stubble. Yet, for all that, he had a pair of lovely blue eyes and the kind of face the Italians liked to carve into marble.

"Hey Slater." Lexi led me in as soon as he moved aside to let us pass.

"Lexi, hi." Slater shut the door, which jangled. Heavy chains dangled from the handles. I guessed that's what vampires resorted to when a human didn't own their dwelling.

"This is—"

Slater studied my face and smiled. "Katherine Pierce, originally Katerina Petrova, changed by Rose-Marie in fourteen ninety-two."

"Actually, I'm Elena," I corrected. Kind of. "Katherine's doppelgänger."

Those pretty eyes roamed Elena's features with renewed interest. "You look exactly like her picture."

"I know. It's creepy," Lexi said.

I glanced between them.

"Can you sense Katerina?" Slater leaned in. "Do you know what she's feeling or experiencing?"

"Oh. No. Nothing like that." Thank goodness. "We just look alike."

He studied me a moment more before turning his attention to Lexi. "You said you needed a favor?"

"My friend, Stefan—"

"Stefan Salvatore? Turned in eighteen-sixty-four by Katherine?" Apparently rambling off facts about vampires as soon as their names came up was a thing with him.

Lexi didn't seem put off by this odd tick. "That's him. He's stuck in a tomb beneath Mystic Falls and," she took a breath, "we need an Original vampire's help to break the spell. Elijah?"

Slater stepped back, blinking. "Okay." He headed down the hall, the end of which led to a large open space. In front of a giant window sat a computer station with eight monitors all crammed together on top. Computer science must have been one of those degrees he'd gotten.

"You know how to get in touch with him, right?" We settled in behind him as he sat down and flicked the mouse to drop his screensaver of a sunrise. "Through a source on Craigslist?"

"That's the rumor," Slater confirmed.

"We need to send a message."

"What message?"

I bit my lip. "About me. Being me. But—without alerting anyone else what I am." Slater had to swivel in his seat, but he and Lexi were both staring at me. I forced out a nervous, "Hah," and tried to explain. "There's others who'd be interested in finding me. That wouldn't help Stefan." It certainly wouldn't help me if a would-be Rose and Trevor turned up to deliver me to Klaus instead of Elijah.

"You want to communicate in code," Slater surmised.

Relieved, I nodded. "Exactly."

"It'll have to be obvious to him and innocent to everyone else," he said.

He was right. Frowning, I turned aside, wondering how to manage that trick. Several ideas sprung to mind, but I dismissed them as too obscure or obvious. Finally, I decided to include a few pieces of information he'd understand as important, but no one else should. "Tell your connection to pass on to Elijah that—I know it's been a while, but I was sorry to learn about his sister Freya's passing. That I'm told I've grown into the spitting image of Tatia. And that I'd like to meet with him to talk about Nik's special day." Slater typed as I spoke. Reading over his shoulder, I realized I had to take some safety measures. Not that anything would really protect me from Elijah, but it might save me from some other vampire. "Leave the where up to him, so long as it's public."

I could see the questions swimming behind his eyes, but Slater settled for asking, "Anything else?"

"No."

Lexi had wandered over to a nearby bookshelf. "Short and sweet."

"Does it sound weird? It probably sounds weird." I frowned.

Lexi cocked a brow. "It's a code sent through a personal ad. It's supposed to sound weird."

"It's sent," Slater reported.

Too late to change it now. "How long before your contact gets back to us?"

He shrugged. "Hours to days."

I frowned and looked to Lexi. "How long can a vampire go without feeding?"

"He'll weaken after a day. It'll take a few more before he starts to desiccate." Lexi moved back to me and, with earnest eyes, said, "Don't worry. It won't come to that. We'll have him out of there."

I forced a return smile and nodded. As Lexi turned to talk to Slater, I wandered towards the window that dominated the room. Rain cascaded down the glass as if a hose were pointed at it. The lights outside winked over the flowing water. I wondered if the same storm would hit Mystic Falls tonight. If the ceiling over the final chamber would collapse and let the water into the centuries' old tomb. I supposed it wouldn't bother the three conscious vampires, there were other chambers. But it couldn't be pleasant—all the wind and water over a giant hole in the ground.

Lexi's reflection moved up behind Elena's. "There's nothing we can do until we hear back from Slater's contact."

"I know."

"Slater says we can stay the night."

Surprised, I turned about. Slater was still at his desk, staring at the screens and typing. "That's—really nice."

"He's a nice guy," Lexi said, grinning.

Guilt twisted my stomach into knots. I hadn't given Lexi and Slater much thought. Hadn't even mentioned their deaths to Stefan. Slater had been a disposable character on a single episode. Lexi, though? I should have said something to Stefan.

"I can see why Stefan likes you so much." My eyes widened, and Lexi's grin morphed into a smirk. "You brood as much as he does."

I mustered a weak smile. "It's been a rough week."

Her arm stretched across my shoulder and I was guided away from the storm-drenched window towards a kitchen straight out of Pinterest board. "Let's see what Slater has to drink."

"Is that a good idea? What if we hear back tonight?"

"You can watch me drink his booze, then." She guided me to seat and nudged me into it.

"Fun."

"What if I throw in some embarrassing Stefan stories?"

My smile grew more genuine. "Sold."

Lexi was as good as her word. While she nursed shots of whiskey, she told me about a Stefan I hadn't met yet. A wilder and playful Stefan.

The rain never stopped, but it did slow after midnight. I fell back asleep on Slater's couch around three.

Lexi shook me awake after nine. "Slater's contact messaged. Tonight. La Roi's. Seven o'clock." She frowned. "Alone."

The hairs all over my arms rose. I took a steadying breath and nodded.

* * *

Slater informed us that La Roi was on the higher end of the scale for eating out. Given I was meeting Elijah I wasn't surprised, but I was horrified. I was in the same dirty jeans, shirt, and jacket I'd been in since I'd hit Anna.

Lexi noticed. She needled Slater for directions to a nearby dress shop.

Richmond's streets were littered with fallen branches and tipped over trash cans. The radio reported several areas of the state were out of power. There was no news about Mystic Falls, which I supposed translated to good news.

The store Slater had recommended turned out to be a small boutique. Lexi immediately dragged me over to the cocktail dresses, hands flicking expertly through the hangers. "Any preferences?"

"Nothing too revealing." I shuffled through the first few and blanched at the price tags. I immediately set out to look for something at a more modest price and soon realized that was going to be an exercise in futility. "I think we need to try somewhere else," I said so quietly only a vampire would hear.

"Why?"

"I don't have any money, just Stefan's card."

"I doubt he'd care," Lexi replied as she slid another hanger to the side. "But if it bothers you that much, I'll pay for it."

"You don't—"

"Mind? Not at all, or I wouldn't have offered." Lexi's smile was final as she pulled out an off-the-shoulder mid-length red dress. "Try this one."

It wasn't what I would have picked, but since I wasn't buying, I wasn't about to decline. I took the dress and headed to the changing room as the slide of hangers sounded again behind me.

It felt good to get out of the mud-crusted clothes I'd been wearing way too long. Since I hadn't had the wits to clean up at my temporary motel room, I sighed before slipping into a way-too-expensive dress that I was afraid to touch, let alone put on.

It looked—well. As I'd already learned, nothing looked bad on Elena. The dress complimented her shape, but the color was a little much.

Still, I stepped back out of the room and would have ran into Lexi if not for her vampire reflexes. She looked me over and frowned. "You hate it."

"No. I just—"

"Hate it." Lexi pushed an armful of dresses at me. She grinned. "Don't worry. We'll find something."

I couldn't hold back the small, sarcastic, "Yay," that slipped out.

Lexi snorted before grabbing my shoulders and turning me around. "Shoo. Don't bother coming out if you don't like it." Her voice took on a playfully ominous tone as she added, "I'll know."

"Yes m'am," I replied before stepping back into the cubicle.

It was another four dresses before I found something that was more to my taste. It was a soft heather gray, classically cut as far as cocktail dresses went. Something I could picture on Audrey Hepburn. Elena wore it beautifully.

Lexi gave it a thumbs up. "You like that one."

"Yeah."

"Want to try on a few more?"

I did like this one but knew better than to stop at the first thing to catch my eye. "A few more can't hurt."

"That'a girl." Lexi had another armful to pass over. "Let's see if we can do better."

The next dress I that caught my eye was a one shoulder A-Line midi dress in midnight blue. It was the single shoulder strap that drew me to it. Gathered to the side, Elena's hair fell wonderfully over the bare skin of the other.

Lexi smirked as soon as I stepped past the changing room door. "That one."

"The gray is—"

"Nice. This is amazing." Lexi folded her arms. "And you feel sexy in it."

My brows rose. "Thanks for letting me know."

Lexi's offered a crooked smile. "See? You're getting sassy. You must like it."

"I'm not sure if I'm going for sexy." I thought about Elijah. "Elijah's… classy." I glanced at the gray dress still hanging on the back of the door.

"You're going for what makes you feel best. It's clearly this one." Lexi shrugged. "But it's up to you."

"You like the blue."

"Yeah. Because _you_ like the blue."

"You keep telling me what I like," I pointed out.

"Because you keep feeling guilty about it." Lexi set her hands on her hips. "You need to stop worrying about what other people think, Elena. Life's so much easier when you stop giving a damn."

I bristled. "Because it's that easy."

"No. It takes practice." Lexi walked past to reach over and grab the gray dress. "And the sooner you start," she said, holding up the more conservative choice, "the sooner you'll get better at it." She let the dress sway back and forth in her hand. "So? Which will it be?"

Well. That was practically a dare.

* * *

The power had been knocked out in the restaurant's district. When I heard the news, I thought the meeting would be cancelled or moved, but no one sent word. When I arrived at the restaurant, it was immediately apparent why.

Long strands of small silver lights had been strung up everywhere. As if they'd taken a cue from Caroline's decorative playbook but upped their game by a considerably bigger budget and a professional decorator's eye. It was like stars floated alongside the sidewalk, guiding patrons into the gently lit restaurant.

And, naturally, they used actual candlelight at all the tables.

Gripping the small clutch Lexi had purchased, along with a pair of obscenely expensive heels and a headband to help hold my hair off to the side, I stepped up to what looked like the greeter—or maître d', I supposed—dressed in a suit. He had the ready smile of a professional. "Good evening. Name?"

"Elena Gilbert. But," I added as he turned to the computer screen off on a small standing desk beside him, "the reservation is probably under Mikaelson."

After a moment, he nodded. "Mikaelson, Elijah. A table for two."

"Am I too early?" I knew I was. Nervous, I'd set off too soon. The clock in anna's car had said I was twenty minutes early.

I was ready to wait, but it turned out I wouldn't have to. "The table was reserved to be held at six thirty." He motioned towards the full dining room. "This way."

He led me to a table in the back, next to a wall where an oil painting of an impressionist's scene of an eighteenth-century park hung. Tall candles that smelt faintly of vanilla burned in polished brass holders while more lights glowed softly overhead from the rafters. He pulled out the chair and waited for me to sit before stepping back to the table's side.

"I'll have your waiter bring out water and some bread."

"Thank you."

He nodded before heading back towards the front of the restaurant.

I settled into my seat to wait. It was only a few minutes before a server came by with the promised water and bread, along with two sets of menus. Stomach flipping, I settled for a sip of water before pulling out Stefan's phone. Twelve minutes to seven.

I was setting the phone back into the clutch when a man lowered himself into the seat across from mine.

I glanced up and gasped. My heartrate sped up even as the rest of my body froze.

Klaus smirked. "Hello, luv."

I didn't understand how everyone else in the restaurant could sit there, eating and talking like the ultimate predator wasn't prowling among them. We should all be up, screaming and running like the herd animals we were to him. Klaus the Mad picked up the menu with hands that had spilled enough blood to fill a lake. And not a small one. Despite his designer clothes and relaxed posture, he exuded danger. Like nature was trying to give us humans fair warning.

It was surreal, watching him do something as simple as reading a menu. Flipping it to the second page. His eyes gliding down the list of dishes. His lips settled into a slight purse as he read. He was reclining as much as one could in a mid-back chair. Most people would look indolent, but Klaus looked regal. A king relaxing after passing his judgements.

"Mm." he perused the menu briefly before dismissing it. He folded his hands, smiling behind his interlocked fists as calculating blue eyes met mine over their knuckles. "Haute cuisine has always been more to Elijah's tastes."

I stared like a mouse hypnotized by a dancing cobra, its hood spread wide and scales gleaming. He was mesmerizing.

His lips ticked higher. "You do know who I am." His hands fell back to the table, fingers dancing to the silverware. "I suppose you would. Knowing things you should not. Things no one outside the family should." He didn't say family like most would. Like some casual description a group of people you happened to have grown up with, heading off to a birthday party or spending thanksgiving together. No, Klaus turned it into something sacred. Some greater power that could save or damn.

My words were captured by the fear that gripped me tight and wouldn't let me do anything but breathe shallow, panicked breaths.

"This conversation is going to be quite dull if it's entirely one-sided," he mused, finger running over the tines of the smaller fork. "You showed such," he picked a tine and it sang, "boldness in your little advertisement. Not quite as devious as Katerina. Tatia," he hummed, pressing his lips together, "her assets lay elsewhere." His gaze became curious. "How about you? Hm?"

My mouth had turned dry as dust. I picked up the complimentary water and managed to take a sip despite my shaking hand. I even sat it back down without spilling. "I expected Elijah. Guess that makes me the dumb one."

Klaus' head tilted to the side, smile growing. "Don't be too hard on yourself. I've been manipulating kings and tricking tacticians for a very long time."

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I said nothing.

Klaus sat back. "I'm wildly curious as to what, exactly, you do know. And who told you, of course." The clink and clatter of silverware tapping and scraping against porcelain plates around me seemed obscenely loud. It was just a normal night out for all the other patrons. Their murmured conversations wouldn't determine whether they had a future. "Why don't we start there." I heard the command wrapped up in the suggestion, like a knife in silk.

I picked up my water, took another sip. It gave me time to think when he expected a response. I didn't think Klaus was a man who liked to wait. Not unless he had no other choice. "I know a lot."

Klaus waved a hand as he settled even further into his seat.

Granted leave by his majesty, I struggled to put the impossible into words. "I know you grew up in Mystic Falls. Only it wasn't Mystic Falls back then. It was wilderness. To call it a village probably gives it too much credit."

Klaus' expression didn't shift an iota. He merely listened.

"Your parents came from overseas." I clenched my hands into fists, laid them on my lap. "Your mother was Esther. A girl Mikael spotted during a raid and…" I struggled for a diplomatic word for kidnapped, "took? For a wife. They had a child in Europe. Freya."

Klaus leaned forward. "And how do you know of Freya?"

"It's going to sound insane."

"Then from one madman to another." He grinned as if we were sharing a joke.

My fists clenched. "I'm not from this world." His face remained impassive. "This," I pointed at myself, "isn't even my body."

That raised his brows. "No? Are you a witch catching a ride?"

I shook my head. "One pulled me from my world and stuck me in the latest doppelgänger."

Before he could reply, a formal attired waiter with a slight French accent stepped up to our table. "Are we ready to order?"

A flash of irritation that had me stiffening in my seat stole across Klaus' face before it was smoothed away as he turned to look up at the server. Klaus then transitioned into French as he answered. At least, I assumed it was French. I didn't speak it, so I couldn't be positive.

At one point he turned to me, brow lifted, "And you?"

"Oh. Um." In my terror, I'd forgotten to look over the menu. I picked it up… and saw nothing in the way of prices. Great. I should have figured it'd be one of _those_ restaurants. "Just—a second…" I scanned the items as quick as I could. Didn't help. I didn't recognize any of the dishes that were listed.

"Allow me?" Klaus offered after the moment stretched. I nodded. "How do you feel about lamb?"

"Oh, um. I like it?"

His brow raised.

My face heated. "I like it."

Klaus tilted up towards the waiter, and more French rolled off his tongue. "And to drink?" He held up another menu.

I blew out a breath. "I suppose a tequila is too much to hope for, huh?"

The waiter's mouth pursed.

Klaus' smile transformed into a grin. "Mm. 'Fraid so." He set the menu down. "Shall I?"

Well, it wasn't like they'd have blood on the menu so… "Sure."

It didn't surprise me that I didn't recognize anything that he said again. The only wine I had experience with were wine coolers. I seriously doubted anything with a paper label was going to be carried out in one of those fancy silver buckets.

"The lamb. It's good?"

One of his shoulders shifted slightly upwards before dropping. "If prepared well." He rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "So. Plucked from another world, put into my doppelgänger." Klaus' eyes widened as his brows lifted. "None of which explains how you know so much about my family."

"In my world, your lives are, um," I paused. How did I keep ending up having to tell somebody with an explosively violent temper they're a character in a television show?

His brows arched even higher. "Yes?" he prompted.

I blew out a breath. "You're—there's a series of books they turned into a television show. A few shows, actually. You're in them."

Klaus straightened back up and studied me. "You're right." His head tilted. "That is mad."

I grimaced.

Klaus' attention wandered off to the side, glaring off at nothing, before turning back. "And this program is how you learned about my family?"

A cold breeze touched the back of my neck as I began to sweat. I nodded.

Klaus' stare grew increasingly uncomfortable. "What do you know of the ritual?"

"Everything," I whispered.

"Specifics, luv."

"You need the moonstone, a full moon, a vampire, a werewolf, and me. The doppelgänger. Killing us releases whatever binding Esther put on your wolf."

Klaus' eyes seemed to burn a bright, almost ethereal blue. "Then you know you have to die."

I gave a single, short nod.

"Explains why you tried to contact my brother."

"No. That's not—you can't let me stay dead."

"I can't?" Klaus mused, as if charmed by the idea that there might be something he couldn't do.

I winced. "Your mother arranged it so that, if you want to make more hybrids like you, they need to feed on doppelgänger blood to complete the transition."

His stare darkened, and my heart redoubled its efforts to break free of my ribcage. "The doppelgänger that must die to release the curse." His lips curled into a frighteningly blasé smile. "That _does_ sound like something she would do." His eyes roamed the ceiling. I glanced up to see what he was studying now. Nothing but more lights crisscrossing the exposed rafters.

By the time I looked back down, Klaus' surprisingly emotive blue eyes were back on me. He was studying me again, as if he could see the truth written within Elena's own dark brown gaze. "Say I believe this… tale of yours. Why tell me? I haven't had to threaten you once." Cynicism sharpened in his stare. "I assume you want something."

"Yes, but that's not the only reason. Not even the most important." I released a breath. "When I was put inside this body, its original occupant was forced out to the Other Side." I grabbed my bicep and squeezed before adding, "Esther found her. She's—changed her from what she should be. Made her hate vampires." My voice turned apologetic as I hurried to say, "She's convinced her to help kill you and your siblings once she has her body back."

Klaus' brows pinched. "How could such a thing be possible?" Distrust shone from his narrowing gaze and the slight frown his mouth fell into. "And why should you care?"

I swallowed. "Doppelgänger blood made you all what you are. It can be turned against you. And if one of you dies, every vampire sired of that line dies with them." I squeezed my arm again. "We're talking about wiping out vampires as a whole."

"Something I'd think you should be happy to be party to, being human."

"Not all vampires are homicidal."

Klaus' grin widened until his canines bit into his lower lip. "No?" Amusement sparkled from his brightening gaze. "Who am I to argue?"

This was… almost too good to be true. I was still alive. He seemed amused instead of wrathful. I dared to ask, "You believe me?"

"What I believe is irrelevant. What matters is you're here. Now," he said, settling back into his seat. "I'm a bit hurt you tried to contact my brother before me. But I'm willing to hear what it is you want, since you're going to grant me what I've waited centuries to have."

"I've got friends stuck behind a barrier spell back in Mystic Falls. They need to be freed. It'll take a powerful witch or two."

"Easy enough to arrange." Klaus shrugged.

"You don't harm anyone."

Klaus cocked an eyebrow. "Why, you say that as if that's all I do with my day." He picked up a fork, spinning it on its handle atop the table before adding, "I'll have to decline that condition. But I am not without reason, despite what some would have you believe." His eyes lifted back to meet mine. "As long as your friends stay out of my way."

I settled my hands on my lap before curling them into fists. "They don't interfere, and you won't hurt them?"

"Why would I bother?" Klaus wondered. "Anything else?"

It would have to do. "After your wolf is released, you promise to help with Esther. And some others who'll come after us."

"You'd have me on leash like a dog to do your bidding?" Klaus asked pleasantly enough, but his words had me flinching.

"They'll stand against you, too."

"We'll see. I have my own business to see to," Klaus said. I thought about Mikael, and the Originals still in their coffins.

"One last request." At Klaus' pursed lips, I clenched my hands over my lap and forced myself to add, "Katerina goes free."

"Why would I ever agree to that?"

"I promised to arrange it." Klaus looked unimpressed, so I tried, "And it's necessary. To avoid future problems." Frankly, I wasn't sure if Katherine would keep her word. In fact, I was almost sure she wouldn't. But on the slim chance she did… "Please. You murdered her family and chased her for centuries. Isn't that enough?"

Klaus' eyes flashed with that inner fire. "It is not just the matter of her defiance, though that is no small part of it." Klaus words became sharper, enough to slice the air between us and push me back into my seat. "It is for the years I've lived with a curse that could have been undone. A lifetime for which I've waited for _you_."

He was leaning over the table, eyes boring into mine, stealing my ability to breathe. I'd even begun to grow lightheaded when the waiter reappeared, hands laden with a fancy silver tray covered in steaming plates of food. Klaus blinked and settled back into his seat, the mien of disinterest fallen like a curtain over his face as the food and wine was laid out before us.

With a brief exchange of French between them, the waiter turned away and left Klaus and I to the meal.

"Now. Here is what will happen. Since I'm feeling generous, I will send a few witches to your entombed friends. You will provide me the location of the moonstone while I arrange for a vampire and a werewolf. Then, on the first the full moon, I break the curse." His sights narrowed. "I will do what I can to resurrect you, but the sacrifice happens whether a solution presents itself or not. If you try to escape, I will find your friends and your family, and I will rip the entrails out of each and every one of them inch by bloody inch. If I resurrect you and your blood does not create my hybrids, I will find your friends and family, and—well. You seem like a smart girl." His eyes seemed to gleam in the soft light. "I'm sure you get the point."

My heartrate shot up again, and I had to set my silverware down as my hands started to shake. "Elijah has some kind of potion that was supposed to bring Elena back to life. Maybe."

Suspicion narrowed his eyes to slivers. "How convenient."

"It's true. He meant to give it to Katherine. Katerina."

"Hm." Klaus sliced into a thick cut of steak. "If he was able to procure it, I should be able to."

I watched as he brought the small piece of meat up and into his mouth. "What are you going to do with me until then?" I dared to ask.

Klaus chewed through a dark chuckle. Glancing at me, he made certain to swallow before saying, "My little doppelgänger. I don't intend to let you out of my sight."

Turning back to my plate, I forced myself to take up the knife and fork again. My ears buzzed as I cut off a piece of lamb so succulent that it just about fell apart as soon as the knife touched it. Klaus was now watching me as I took a bite.

All I could taste was ash.


	17. Seventeen

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** Things get bloody.

**Chapter Seventeen**

Klaus was comfortable with silence. Me? Not so much.

Seated in the passenger seat of his SUV, I never-the-less kept my mouth shut and my eyes fixed on the darkness beyond the window as Klaus drove. The sounds of classical music filled the space between us. The occasional swelling of the orchestra or rapid staccato of the strings fed my anxiety, but I didn't dare ask Klaus to turn the station.

I didn't dare ask where we were going, either.

So it was a surprise when the Welcome to Mystic Falls sign was lit up by the SUV's headlights. Klaus must have felt my startled glance, because he answered my unspoken question with, "Where did you expect me to keep you?"

The sign glided behind us as I answered, "Wherever you'd been."

"It was time for a change of address." I thought of all his enemies and frowned. Instead of confirming my suspicion, Klaus said, "There would be more questions if I moved you out of your hometown. For now."

"Not my hometown," I muttered.

"Elena's, then. _Elena_." Klaus had an amused smirk on his face. One that made me think he was humoring me. "Where to?"

A chill of dread spread across my skin. "Like, a motel?"

"No." There was a whole world of derision in that short answer. "Where you've been staying."

"Why?"

"Because I asked." His voice was soft.

The hair along my arms stood on end. "Keep going to Grotto Avenue." I whispered.

"Good girl," he murmured. The song flooded the cab as it crested its crescendo.

It was almost midnight by the time he pulled up the driveway. Staring at the front door, I realized I'd been gone for two days. Jenna was not going to be happy. I braced myself as I grabbed the handle. "Thanks for the ride."

Klaus turned off the engine and smiled. Dread coiled my gut into knots as he pushed open the door and stepped out.

Panic seized my lungs before my heart kicked them back into gear. I shoved the door open and hurried out behind him, so intent on catching up I almost forgot to shut the door. I trotted as fast as the heels would allow to catch up to his strides. "What are you doing?" I whisper-hissed.

He didn't bother answering. He didn't even look at me. He continued up the sidewalk and the porch to the front door before pressing the doorbell.

I gaped. "Do you know what time it is?" I asked as I jogged awkwardly up the steps.

Klaus shrugged. Before I could say anything else, the door swung open. My heart leapt in fear as Jenna appeared on the other side, oblivious to her would-be murderer standing before her.

"Elena?" She pulled the door all the way open. "What are you doing out this late?" Her questioning gaze shifted to Klaus.

"Jenna," I answered weakly. "I can explain."

"Perhaps we can take this inside?" Klaus tried for innocent, but the aura that surrounded him kept him from pulling it off. He exuded a quiet menace, like the feel of electricity gathering in the air just before a lightning strike.

I was swift to interject. "No, we don't have to do that." At Jenna's questioning glance, I forced a smile. "It's nice out."

Going by the look she gave me, Jenna questioned whether I had any sense. "It's midnight, Elena." My chest tingled and my fingers grew cold as she said, "Come in before we wake the neighbors."

Klaus' triumphant smile was a wicked thing. I followed, hands gripping my clutch hard enough to cause the plastic makeup cases inside to give a protesting creak.

Jenna shut the door behind us. Klaus barely glanced over the hallway before his sights fell back on me, a smug glint in his eyes. "Thank you, Miss—"

"Jenna Sommers." Jenna's brows pushed together in question. "Elena's aunt."

"Nik," Klaus replied.

The sound of footsteps warned us someone was moving on the second floor. John appeared at the top of the staircase. My shoulders tightened, clutch creaking even more as I remembered the reason I'd been on the way to the Salvatore's before Anna's ambush. As he descended I noticed the same chalky paleness to his skin as the day before. He still had a huge bandage taped to his neck where Katherine had torn into it.

"Elena." His smile was wide and caused his eyes to crinkle with happiness. "I was worried."

Confusion pulled Jenna's brows low. "You knew she'd gone out?"

John's smile softened, turning almost benevolent. "Of course."

Now it was my turn to be confused. "You… didn't know I was gone?" I asked Jenna.

"You didn't tell me you were going out," Jenna replied.

"Yes I did." I'd told her I'd be going to the Salvatore's. She'd sided with me against Not-John.

"Oh. I must not have heard you," Jenna said.

She had, but I guessed she didn't remember.

"I'm John," John said, extending a hand to Klaus. "Elena's uncle."

Klaus accepted it, eyes narrowing slightly before relaxing back into his attempts at an unthreatening façade. "Nik." They shook longer than seemed polite, staring at one another, until their hands fell back to their sides. "Looking a little peaky there, John," Klaus said.

John put his hand into his pocket. "I've been under the weather."

"That so?" My heart hammered as they stood in each other's way, staring and smiling creepily at one another.

"Did you give Elena a ride home, Nik?" Jenna asked.

Klaus shifted his grin to her. "I did." And looking directly into Jenna's eyes, added, "It's a long drive back and very late. I should stay the night."

John's smile fell.

Jenna motioned to Klaus. "You know, it's late. You should stay the night."

"That's a bad idea, Jenna," John said, voice once again taking on that strange, soothing tenor.

Jenna blinked and turned to him. Brows pinching together, she frowned as she said, "It… is…"

Klaus' eyes narrowed to slivers, mouth pursing in thought before he stepped forward, forcing Jenna's attention back on him. "It's an excellent idea."

Jenna squinted, hand lifting to her head. She rubbed her temple. "I—"

John sighed. "It's alright Jenna." He stared without blinking at Klaus. "I suppose one night won't hurt."

Klaus grinned.

Jenna's hand fell back to her side, any evidence of pain smoothed from her face. "I'll make up the couch," she said, moving down the hall.

The hell was that?

"You'll be taking that," Klaus told John.

John answered with his creepy grin again. "Of course. I wouldn't be so rude to suggest otherwise."

"Fantastic."

I couldn't help but study Not-John, wondering how he was alive and what he was doing here. And what had that been with Jenna? Had his suggestion somehow warred with Klaus' compulsion?

What the hell was he?

Klaus either knew or was wondering the same thing. The two continued to stand still in the hallway and stare each other down like a couple of statues. Even after Jenna came back with a blanket and pillow, they remained locked in their odd battle of wills. Neither moved until Jenna had set the bedding on the couch.

"Thank you, Jenna," John said, still staring unblinkingly at Klaus.

"You're welcome, John," Jenna practically simpered.

Okay. Since when did she stop hating him?

"Can you show Nik to the spare bedroom, Elena?" Jenna asked.

No. But better me than Jenna or Not-John, so I smiled, said, "Sure," and started up the stairs. Klaus finally took his eyes off John long enough to follow me.

When we were halfway down the hall, Klaus nonchalantly said, "You do know your Uncle is dead?"

I grimaced. "I figured it was something like that." Looking at him, I found his eyebrows pulled low and a contemplative look in his eyes. "Do you know what he is?"

Klaus' brows arched. "Some sort of zombie."

I stared, nonplused. No. Way. "Seriously?"

"Deadly. He reminds me of witches in the Quarter who used to raise the dead to send after one another many decades ago." His brows furrowed. "Though, he seems to have a mind of his own. A proper zombie can only answer their master's will." His lips dipped into a scowl. "And I've no idea how he was countering my compulsion."

"I didn't think that was possible."

"It shouldn't be." Klaus said, eyes narrowed. We stopped outside the spare room and Klaus met my worried gaze. "I'll wait until morning and then find a proper place to stay."

"I'm surprised your not ripping John into pieces," I admitted.

"Little point if he's undead." Klaus frowned. "There's only one way to stop a zombie."

"Shoot it in the head?"

He scoffed. "No. Kill the witch that raised it."

I startled. "Really?"

He nodded. "I've seen bits of bones trying to beat would-be victims to death." His brow arched. "It's not a sight one easily forgets."

Picturing it, I shuddered. "How could they move?"

Klaus looked at me as if I were slow. "Magic."

"Right. Because that's sensible."

Klaus tilted his head, smirking, and opened the door to his temporary room. "Welcome to my world, luv."

He walked inside, shutting the door behind him. "Your world sucks," I muttered, heading down the rest of the hall.

I opened the door to Elena's room and found myself shoved against the wall, a hand wrapped around my throat. A confused Katherine stared at me with crinkled brows. "What are you doing here?" She wondered.

I couldn't draw breath to answer. My mouth moved uselessly.

Chin tilted down, Katherine studied me through thick lashes. "How did you get out?"

Again, I could only mouth silently in response.

Then, as suddenly as it had captured me, Katherine's hand was gone. I slid down the wall to the floor, coughing as I struggled to suck down air and rub my smarting throat. Wincing, I looked up.

It was Katherine's turn to choke as she hung from Klaus' effortless grip. He studied her with the cold regard of an executioner as he dangled her an inch off the ground. "Hello Katerina," he said, voice soft and all the more menacing for it. He looked over his shoulder to cock an eyebrow at me. "This is exactly why I'm not taking my eyes off you."

Rubbing my now tender neck as I coughed, I could only muster a reedy, "Thanks."

Katherine was holding onto Klaus' forearm, eyes wide and panicked as her legs kicked towards the ground.

I took another pained breath before managing a hoarse, "Klaus. Please."

Klaus' already lifted brow ticked higher before he turned back to Katherine. I could hear the creak of bone as his grip tightened. Finally, he brought Katherine closer and said, "You won't run."

Katherine mouthed the words.

As soon as Klaus released her Katherine collapsed to the floor. She stared up, fear bright in the whites around her eyes. Klaus' own gleamed with pleasure as he basked in her terror, a tiny smile on his face. "You are lucky my doppelgänger is so very soft-hearted, Katerina."

Katherine's gaze darted to me before fixing back onto Klaus. "What—"

Klaus lowered himself into a crouch. Katherine flinched and leaned back. "Am I doing here?" That small smile deepened into a self-satisfied smirk. "Why, keeping an eye on Miss Gilbert." A hint of possessiveness shone from his eyes as he added, "She's mine, Katerina. And I don't like anyone touching my things."

I didn't care to be referred to as a thing, let alone his, but I wasn't about to voice my objections.

"Do you understand?" His voice turned hard.

Katherine hurried to nod. "Yes."

"Excellent." He glanced around the room. "I take it you've been playing the role of high school student while Miss Gilbert's been away?"

"Yes," Katherine admitted.

"How tedious." His grin widened. "Keep it up."

My brows flew up. "I don't think—"

"Or I could kill one of your teachers and take their place." Klaus slowly turned his head, looking over his shoulder to meet my horrified stare. "Then Katerina's impersonation solves the problem of how to keep my eye on you during the day. She'll continue to be you. And you'll continue to be with me." His attention fell back to Katherine. "From your little message, I take it you know of a suitable werewolf?"

Message?

Katherine frowned. "Yes."

"Well, now. You're proving useful."

Katherine looked earnest as she insisted, "Whatever you need, Klaus."

"Now you're overdoing it," Klaus chided before standing. "But continue to be so very helpful, and should the ceremony go off without a hitch, I'll grant you your pardon."

Katherine's eyes practically glowed.

"You're staying nearby?" he asked.

I almost told him she was boarding at the Salvatore's when Katherine surprised me once again. "I have a house here. You can have it if you'd like."

"I suppose it'll have to do for now." Klaus curled his finger and Katherine reluctantly rose to her feet. Klaus waited until he could meet her eyes again to say, "You will not leave Mystic Falls."

"I won't leave Mystic Falls," Katherine repeated in a monotone.

I frowned.

"Give me the address, then," Klaus said. His upper body turned towards me. "Pack a bag, luv. Turns out we won't be staying the night." He looked back to Katherine. "The Uncle. Does he know where this house of yours is?"

Katherine nodded.

Klaus frowned. "That's unfortunate." His eyes narrowed. "Keep an eye on him. I want to know if he follows." While Katherine quickly agreed, his sights found me again. "If you don't want to end up with nothing, I suggest you get to it."

Grimacing, I pressed a hand against the wall and pushed myself back up.

Klaus waited, arms folded as I pulled various shirts and pants from the closet and stuffed them into a suitcase I found sitting on the shelf. Katherine had moved off to the side, out of Klaus' direct line of sight, doing her best to appear nonchalant as she leaned against the desk. Her gaze, constantly flitting back to Klaus, said she was anything but indifferent to the Original.

I practically scooped up the contents of Elena's underwear and sock drawers before rushing into the bathroom. Elena's makeup bag, shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and toothpaste joined the now bulging contents of the bag. I shoved all of it in before struggling with the lid. Once secured, Klaus came over and picked up the bag.

And then me.

I eeped as I was unceremoniously tossed over his shoulder. "What are you doing?!" I hissed.

"Jumping out the window," he informed me matter-of-factly as he strode across the room. He paused, and I was swung around as he turned to address Katherine. "Don't disappoint me, Katerina."

"I won't," she swore. I couldn't tell if she was telling the truth. From Klaus' long pause, I guessed he couldn't, either. Knowing his paranoia, I doubt he believed her.

Reaching the window, the world turned to a smear of darkness until it abruptly resolved back into the passenger side of Klaus' SUV. Slightly nauseous as my organs tried to bounce back to their original positions, I wobbled on the thin heels and would have fallen if not for Klaus' sudden steadying arm wrapped around my waist. I struggled to regain my bearings as he pulled open the door and guided me back inside.

He was beside me before I had the chance to blink. The driver's door shut, the engine turned, and Klaus backed out of the driveway before speeding down the street. His sights shifted to the rearview mirror as he raced down the block. I hurried to pull my seatbelt across my body and slide it into place.

Klaus didn't slow down. In fact, as soon as we reached the main road, he only sped up. "Where is two-oh-seven Ferry Lane?"

"No idea. I just got here myself, remember?"

Klaus frowned before scanning the dark buildings gliding past. He eventually slowed down once he reached a gas station. "Come along," he instructed after parking the SUV.

Not wanting another experience of being tossed over his shoulder and hauled around, I dutifully followed behind him. The clicking of my heels echoed across the lot into the empty streets as we walked to the glass door. An electronic chime greeted us as Klaus and I entered the store.

"If you want something, now's the time to ask," Klaus said.

I hugged my arms, wishing I'd gotten a shrug or jacket to wear over the bare arms of the dress as the store's chill brushed across my skin. I shook my head.

Klaus took a slight detour towards the soda and slushie machines, grabbing a large cup, a lid, and a straw before continuing to the counter. A man I didn't recognize stood behind it. To his credit, he didn't give a second glance at our formal attire, he merely waited.

Klaus plucked a map from a wire stand. "I need directions, mate." He unfolded the laminated sheet. "Ferry Lane."

The station attendant leaned over and traced the various lines of the map before pointing off towards the eastern side of town. "Here." His finger slid along the lane back towards the Main Street. "Take a right off Hargrove and go about twelve blocks. It'll be the next four way stop."

Klaus' eyes followed the route the attendant traced. He looked up and gave a short thanks. "Now," he stared into the attendant's eyes and handed over the empty cup. "I'd like for you to pick up one of those pocket knives and slit your wrist."

"Klaus!" I reached for the man's wrist as he reached for the small display of swiss army knife keychains on the counter, just over the lottery advertisements.

Klaus grabbed my arm, stopping me cold. As the man lifted a keychain from the hook, Klaus added, "Direct the blood over the cup if you'd please," Klaus asked, voice pleasant.

"Don't—Oh god!" As the blade pressed into skin, I turned away, hiding behind the thick curtain of Elena's hair.

I couldn't shut out the pained gasp followed by the steady dribble of blood streaming into a big gulp cup.

It felt longer than the few minutes it took to fill Klaus' grizzly drink. "Cheers," Klaus said as he pressed the lid onto the top.

Leaning heavily on the countertop, the man was still bleeding. He stared at the self-inflicted wound in confusion.

"Heal him," I begged.

Klaus snorted before grabbing my upper arm and moving back to the exit. He paused, however, and whistled sharply to draw the man's puzzled and alarmed study of his arm. "Get rid of the video before you pass out."

The man stumbled towards a door behind the counter.

"Klaus! He doesn't have to die!"

Klaus pulled me bodily out of the store, dragging me alongside him back to the SUV. My heels scraped uselessly against the concrete sidewalk. Finally, he opened the door and pushed me inside. As soon as he pushed the door shut, I moved to open it—only to be stopped cold by a hard look from Klaus on the other side of the window.

I shuddered as he walked back round to the driver's side, a phantom echo of the man's blood draining into that cup haunting my ears. But I knew it was useless to try and go back. Even in sneakers, I had no chance to outrun Klaus. Or to escape his hold.

My eyes burned as he climbed into the driver's seat. There was the crinkle of a wrapper and the sudden crack of plastic and low groan of a straw being lowered. There was a moment of quiet, then a thick swallow and a pleased hum. "You should be grateful," he said before dropping the cup into the holder. Dark red liquid clung to the sides and slipped slowly down to rejoin the rest. "I've been hungry since leaving Richmond."

I gripped the belt and squeezed, keeping my head angled away as I screwed my eyes shut.

The motor turned over as I struggled to keep my breaths steady. My heart hammered wildly in my chest as Klaus reached forward to turn up some new classical piece. He hummed along, pausing only to sip, as we sped down the street.


	18. Eighteen

**The More Things Change****  
**by _Aivaeh_

**Disclaimer:** Familiar characters, plot elements, dialogue, and settings belong to L.J. Smith, Julie Plec, and the CW. The author of this work of fanfiction has made no money from it.**  
Summary:** I have no idea how it happened, but one morning I woke up in the world of The Vampire Diaries. Which, aside from the insanity of waking up inside a television show made real, might not be so bad—if I weren't stuck in the body of vampire magnet and doppelgänger herself, Elena Gilbert.**  
Pairing(s):** OFC x Damon, OFC x Stefan, OFC x Elijah, OFC x Klaus  
**Rating:** M**  
Warning(s):** Graphic descriptions of violence on par with the show itself. References to sex and drug use. Mind control and all the issues of consent that go along with it. Character death.  
**Author's Note:** This will probably be the last chapter I post before finals. Hope y'all enjoy it! Once again, thank you for your reviews, favorites, and follows. They keep me going when the going gets tough with this thing.

**Chapter Eighteen**

Katherine's house was a modern-style two-story with way too much square footage. I wouldn't have been surprised to learn the Lockwood mansion was somewhere nearby judging by the rest of the houses and their impeccably landscaped lawns. Katherine's sat in the middle of a veritable football field surrounded by tall hedges. The house was almost abstract in appearance. It looked made of squares, insets and corners galore with floor to ceiling windows. A second story patio overlooked a huge swimming pool. I couldn't even imagine what all was going on inside. It was like something out of the Sims.

I wondered who she killed to get it. Because she had to have killed someone since Klaus walked right on in.

He turned on the entryway chandelier that looked like a hundred tiny mirrors hung high overhead. If I had to pick a single word to describe the place, it would've been open. Everything seemed exposed, as if the architect had forgotten to put in walls and settled for dark wooden columns, instead. The carpet was all white where there was carpet. And where there wasn't, there was marble.

Going with the minimal theme was the sharp lines and monochrome theme of the furniture. Everything looked less than a year old.

Our footsteps echoed as Klaus led me further inside until we passed the marble lining the entryway. He gazed around and 'hmmed' before motioning to the stairs. "Feel free to take Katerina's room." He leaned to the side to gaze down what served as a hallway between the columns, all the way to a grand game room featuring a pool table that led into the backyard. "I have a feeling you'll find more use for the items in her closet than I, and I've some things to take care of, yet."

I recognized the dismissal and nodded. As soon as his hand fell away from my arm, I walked as fast as I could without outright sprinting for the large staircase dominating the center of the otherwise open house.

Here was where the walls were at. I slipped quietly towards the back of the hall, figuring that was where the master bedroom would be, and where else would Katherine sleep? Opening the door at the very end, I discovered I was right.

This was the room with the huge glass windows overlooking the pool and the rest of the yard. A white king-sized bed dominated its center, a sitting area and a huge television to one side, and several doors off to what I was sure would be a bathroom and closet to the other. A quick glance revealed I was right. The closet could have doubled as a room all its own.

I stepped back into the bedroom, passing by the couch and chairs. Slipping off my shoes, I climbed onto the bed.

I spent the rest of the night in the same spot, knees hiked up, alternating between staring at the television with the sound muted and closing my eyes until the sun began to rise. I rushed through my shower, unsure what the day would bring. Hopefully, a few witches. Anything to make the latest version of my nightmare worth it.

Katherine's dressing room slash closet was myriad of choices. I finally found a pair of slacks and a simple knee-length shirt to wear after twenty minutes of searching through a plethora of dresses, skirts, and dress pants. Dressed and hair dried, I opened the door.

And found an Original blocking the doorway. Klaus had one hand pressed against each side of the frame. He was out of the fancier designer clothes he'd worn the night before and was dressed as I remembered from the show. Long sleeve tan shirt and dark jeans, beaded necklace clasped around his neck.

He was smirking. I was beginning to realize it was his default expression. "Sleep well?"

I glared for an instant before I remembered who I was giving attitude to. Self-preservation dictated that it was an excellent time to examine the room's plush carpeting. A passing thought found it odd that a vampire would pick white for her floor. I was surprised there weren't dozens of blood stains everywhere.

Klaus tapped the frame, drawing my attention back to him. "Come now. Don't be rude."

"You know I didn't."

"Night owl?" Klaus asked pleasantly.

I had no idea why he was attempting small talk. I opted to ignore it. "You'll free my friend today?"

"I said I would see to it." Klaus dropped an arm to lean to one side. "I sent for a few witches last night. They should arrive by this afternoon."

It was like he'd ordered them off Amazon.

Still, the thought of freeing Stefan before nightfall eased some of the tension I'd been carrying since Kathrine shut the door to the tomb. Not too much, though. I was still face-to-face with a psychotic, all-powerful vampire.

One who had a history with a certain Salvatore. I was going to have to address that before Klaus found out himself. I don't imagine paranoia and surprises mix too well.

"I've arranged breakfast," Klaus said as he straightened back up.

Given all that could imply, I hesitated to leave.

As if he'd read my mind, Klaus paused a few feet from my door to add, "Don't worry. No gas station attendants this time."

I clenched my jaw, knowing better than to speak. If the flash of a thin-lipped smile was anything to go by, Klaus approved. He started back down the hall. I was sure he expected me to follow.

I wasn't about to disappoint a near-immortal Original.

* * *

Breakfast passed in more awkward silence on my part. Afterwards, Klaus left me to my own devices while he disappeared off into one of the few downstairs rooms closed off from the rest of the floor. The only order he gave was to not leave the house. I was otherwise free to do as I pleased.

I texted Lexi, and after assuring her I was still fine and that Stefan would be free by tonight, I drifted to the couch. The knowledge Klaus was in a room right down the hall made it impossible to relax. The best I could do was find a few daytime gameshows. They didn't offer nearly enough distraction. Even a later episode of Maury Povich couldn't hold my attention. I waited, stiff backed and restless, for the sound of Klaus' reappearance.

It came in the middle of the reveal. Klaus strode past the living room, eyes fixed on the door. I held my breath, waiting and watching the Hybrid while the crowd on television erupted as Maury announced Chris wasn't the father.

A chime rang through the house right as Klaus pulled the door open. "Hello Gloria."

"Klaus."

Tall, with white hair cropped so close to her head she was nearly bald, Gloria stepped across the threshold like she owned it. It took a moment for me to remember her from the show. The owner of the bar in Chicago that Klaus, Stefan, and Rebekah had caroused at in the roaring twenties. And a powerful witch.

Into old-school voodoo. With bloodletting.

"Thank you for coming." Klaus guided her past the entryway.

Gloria's array of beaded bracelets clicked and clacked as she adjusted her purse higher up her shoulder. "How could I miss it? It's not every day you'd make the offer. What's so important that it couldn't wait?"

"Nothing exotic, I'm sorry to say," Klaus answered. "Just a barrier spell I need broken."

"What kind of barrier?"

"The kind powered by a celestial event."

Gloria glanced my way as they neared, and just as quickly dismissed me in favor of studying Klaus. "Might be tricky."

"I'm told it's already been dropped once. The witch who put it back in place wasn't working with a fully charged amulet."

"Still. Must be something more to it," Gloria insisted.

Klaus gave an enigmatic smile. "Always."

They disappeared down the hallway.

I settled back into the sofa, eyes on the television but not really watching. Gloria had bled Stefan and invaded his mind in the show. Now she'd be working to free him.

I tried to put the worry out of my mind, but daytime television wasn't doing much to help.

An hour and a half and a rerun of M.A.S.H. later, Klaus reappeared before the door chime had a chance to go off. This time, a younger woman was waiting on the other side. Tall and athletically built, she combined curly dark hair with a models' face. Big brown eyes stared with open adoration at Klaus.

Klaus' smile was smug. "Greta." He swept his hand to the side. "Lovely to see you."

"Klaus." After a quick glance at the foyer, her attention returned immediately to him as he shut the door. "I hope I'm not late."

"Not at all." His hand found a perch on her lower back, guiding her inside. "You're right on time." His attention shifted to me. "Elena. Best change into something more suitable for a walk through the woods."

I stood. "We're going?"

"As soon as you're ready." Klaus' next words were for Greta. "I'll fill you in while we wait."

As Klaus led her away, I took the stairs two at a time to hurry back to Katherine's room. Changing into something suitable for hiking was easier said than done when it came to her closet. Parisian runway at the height of fashion week? Check. Red carpet at a movie premier? Double check. Gown for a royal ball? Check, check, check. Old, worn jeans and a flannel? Nope.

Forget a pair of hiking boots.

I made do with a pair of designer jeans and a plain shirt I paired with a denim jacket. There was nothing for it as far as shoes went. For a woman who spent her undead life running, she had a strange lack of sneakers. I ended up with a pair of boots that looked inspired by steel-toed combat boots, just for the fact they didn't have heels.

They clomped down the stairs. Klaus, Gloria, and Greta were nowhere to be found. Restless, I tested the heavy feel of the boots, the way they hugged my calves, stiff leather and a plethora of too many buckles making them tight. I couldn't step in these things—they were made to stomp. I felt ridiculous. I consoled myself with the thought it'd be worse off in heels.

Besides, I had more pressing issues than inappropriate footwear.

Klaus, Greta, and Gloria appeared ten minutes later, the two witches bearing boxes that rattled with glass. Klaus led them to the door and directed us all through it and down the sidewalk to his SUV.

I was about to go sit in the back when Klaus said, "Up front, Elena." He fixed me with a look. "You know the way."

"Right," I cringed, stepping around the front of the car to the passenger side.

The way to the tomb was becoming one of my most well-known routes in Mystic Falls. Seated beside Klaus once again, I directed him through the town towards the old graveyard.

I still hadn't revealed Stefan was the friend trapped within the barrier and time was running out. Even so, I couldn't quite bring myself to tell him on the way there. I could have claimed it was the two witches in the backseat, one of whom had hurt Stefan and invaded his mind, that held my tongue. It'd be a lie. The truth was I hated the idea of being the one to sell Stefan out to Klaus.

But as we exited the SUV into a humid late afternoon, the time to stall had run out.

I led them between the worn and weather-beaten tombstones to the old crypt and the path beyond. The humidity was such that it wasn't long before my forehead was damp with sweat, even though the sun was long gone, hidden behind grey clouds. The forest was dim around us, even spooky despite the daytime hours, but I wasn't afraid of what lurked in the underbrush or back between the old trees.

I walked beside the scariest thing there.

"There's something you need to know," I finally started once we were past the halfway point of the old trail.

"More?" Klaus mused. He didn't look the slightest bit bothered by the humidity or the heat. In fact, he looked energetic.

"It's about the vampire in the tomb."

Klaus glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Yes?"

"You know him." I took a deep before admitting, "Stefan Salvatore."

Klaus stopped, bringing our whole procession to a halt. "Stefan Salvatore," he repeated, quietly, his stare piercing mine.

I swallowed, and in a small voice that seemed to want to disappear as much as I did, answered, "Yes."

Klaus' stare was captivating in the way I imagined a wolf's might be. The stare itself doesn't force you to stay still so much as the terrifying thought of what will happen if you try moving. "Hmm."

His stare released me as he began moving. I was finally able to breathe, though my knees were still too weak to function. Greta and Gloria both gave me varying looks that said the same thing—that they were surprised I was still alive—as they moved past me.

"Elena," Klaus called.

I forced my knees to buck up as I hurried to join him.

The rest of the way was walked in silence. By the time the church's ruined foundations appeared, my nerves felt rubbed raw. "There are stairs," I said, leading them between what was left of the walls. I pointed them too the recently unearthed opening. "Here."

Klaus led the way down, looking over at me to make sure I followed right behind him.

"_Ignea_," Greta muttered at the bottom. A flame rose up in the palm of her hand, lighting the round chamber. The two vampires Katherine had killed lay forgotten where they had died, desiccated and rotting.

Gloria blew out a breath at the smell. "Nice place, Klaus."

"I did say it was a tomb," Klaus replied nonchalantly before stepping to the door. Klaus contemplated the giant stone and its markings before taking hold of either side.

He pulled it open with all the effort it would take me to lift an empty styrofoam cooler.

Once the darkness beyond was revealed, Klaus moved back. I rushed up to take his place. "Stefan?"

Barely a moment passed before he was there, face flickering in the firelight. I smiled, relieved to see that other than a slight slump to his shoulders and a tired look in his eyes, he was alright. I was half afraid I'd find him grey skinned and shriveled, like the other tomb vampires.

Pearl and Anna appeared behind him.

"So she did come back," Anna said, sounding as tired as she and Stefan looked.

"I told you she would," Stefan replied before mustering a small smile for me.

"Here." I pulled his phone and card from my pocket, holding them out to him. He took them as I added, "You'll want to text Lexi. She's been worried about you."

He nodded.

I felt movement behind me. "Hello, Stefan," Klaus greeted as he stepped up beside me.

The small smile fell from Stefan's face, replaced by a wary expression. "Elijah?"

Klaus' grin fell into a thin line. "Wrong brother."

Stefan's eyes darted to me before moving back to Klaus. "Niklaus."

"I prefer Klaus. Niklaus is so—old fashioned." Klaus' smile returned. "Must always keep up with the times."

"Klaus," Stefan said, respectful enough that I knew he'd taken my warnings to heart.

"I've heard of you," Pearl said, careful and considering as she examined him.

Klaus directed his smile at her. "Well, then. That should save us all some time." Klaus' stare returned to Stefan. "My friends here should have you out shortly."

While the vampires had been talking, Greta and Gloria had removed various glass jars and herbs from the boxes they'd carried. Now they were arranging them in a circle at the center of the room.

Klaus looked to them over his shoulder. "Won't you, dears?"

"It's just weak enough that this should work," Gloria affirmed. She then stepped forward, handing him a bag full of blood.

Klaus' smile grew. "Fantastic," he said as he accepted it. He turned to the trapped vampires before lightly tossing the bag to Stefan, who caught it. "Figured you might be hungry."

Stefan eyed the bag but shook his head. "I don't drink human blood."

Klaus' brow ticked up, but before he could say anything, Anna grabbed the bag from Stefan's hands and ripped it open, gulping half of it down.

Stefan winced.

As Anna passed the bag off to Pearl, wiping at her mouth with her sleeve, Klaus took my arm and moved us to the side. He spoke to Gloria and Greta. "I'll let you ladies get on with it, then."

Stefan eyed Klaus' hand, mouth pressing into a thin line.

"And what then?" Pearl asked.

Klaus shrugged. "You're free to go on your merry ways."

"Even me?" Stefan flatly questioned.

"Your freedom for Elena's cooperation. That's the deal." Klaus' smile turned the slightest bit smug. "You have quite the friend."

"And Elena goes back home?" Stefan asked.

Klaus' eyes narrowed. "She stays with me."

"You can't just take her away from her life," Stefan insisted. "People will notice."

"Actually, thanks to dear Katerina, they won't."

"Katherine is here?" Pearl asked, shocked.

"And compelled to stay," Klaus confirmed.

Pearl's eyes narrowed. "I would speak with my old friend." By the tone of her voice and the deadly gleam in her eyes, it was clear what the conversation would consist of.

Klaus shook his head. "As much as I sympathize, I'm afraid I have to insist she remain intact." He nodded towards me. "Katerina is still of use to me."

"And once you're finished with your business?" she asked.

Klaus' lips curled into a vicious smirk, "I'll be finished."

"Wait." Stefan stepped closer to the barrier. "Take me instead of Elena."

Klaus leaned back against the brick wall. "Sorry, mate. I'm pleased with my original arrangement."

Stefan glanced to me, and I could see him remembering our conversation. He knew Klaus had considered him a brother before erasing his memories. "Elena goes back to her life, and I do whatever you say."

"Vampire lackeys are a dime a dozen." Klaus was bluffing. Even had I not known better, Klaus' eyes betrayed him. They shone with interest. Sure enough, he proved it a moment later, "Although, the Ripper of Monterey—that is the kind of vampire I could make use of." Derision entered Klaus' voice as he added, "But not this—weak-blooded shadow currently before me."

Even though I knew it would come to this, I couldn't help the pit in my stomach that opened up.

Stefan stared at Klaus before nodding. "Alright. I pledge my service while drinking human blood again, and you let Elena go free."

"No. She remains with me. That is nonnegotiable. However, I'll allow you to remain at her side. A familiar face to act as a bodyguard." Klaus arched a brow.

"Stefan, no—"

"Done."

"Well," Klaus said, eyes gleaming, "hasn't this been a productive few days." He looked over to the witches. "How's it coming?"

"Almost finished," Greta answered.

Almost was ten minutes before Greta and Gloria were standing before one another, holding hands and chanting. The smell of the smoking herbs nearly enough to overpower the stench of rot and death from the corpses. Unlike Bree and her crystal, I couldn't tell what was happening with the magic, although there was a feeling of something different within the tomb after they'd started. But it was indistinct and hard to pinpoint. Like the shift in pressure before a thunderstorm, except this sensation crawled under the skin, made it itch.

Finally, the two witches let go. Gloria nodded to Klaus. "It's done."

Stefan pushed his hand out and was able to extend his whole arm.

The three vampires quickly stepped over where their invisible barrier had once been. As soon as they were free, Klaus smiled at me. "There. Just as agreed."

With Stefan sworn to drinking human blood for him, it hardly felt like a big victory. Still, I managed a nod.

"You're welcome," Klaus drawled before addressing Pearl. "Remember—no harm is to come to Katerina. Not while our business remains."

Pearl gave a short, shallow nod. "I understand."

Stefan turned to her. "You can still tell my brother the truth."

"The drama between you two and Katherine isn't my concern," Pearl frowned.

Stefan nodded. "I realize that. But it would deny Katherine an ally."

Pearl arched a brow but seemed to consider it. After a moment, she nodded. "Very well."

"Wait," I made to step forward, but was held back by Klaus. I frowned at his lowered brows and turned back to Stefan and Pearl. "This is going to devastate Damon." I turned pleading eyes on Klaus. "Let Stefan go with them."

Klaus' brows pinched together, mouth taking the slightest downward curve. "That was not part of our arrangement."

"I won't be gone long," Stefan promised, everything about him—his eyes, his voice, his bearing—was completely earnest as he addressed Klaus. "And I'll come right back."

Klaus stared, frown curving even deeper. "What guarantee do I have of that?"

"You have Elena," Stefan simply said.

Klaus studied Stefan, staring straight into his eyes. He moved forward, until he was standing in Stefan's personal space. "One hour." Klaus' head cocked as he shared Katherine's address. "I trust I don't need to waste my time with tedious threats of what I will do to you and everyone you care about should you not return."

"No." Stefan never blinked or took his eyes off Klaus, as if he were dealing with a wild animal. "Thank you."

Klaus grinned. "What are friends for?" He stepped back, taking hold of my arm once again.

With a final long look between us, Stefan broke off his stare with a nod in Klaus' direction before glancing at Pearl. She, Stefan, and Anna disappeared as they, presumably, sped away.

"Well," Klaus began, drawing my attention to him, "now that that's settled, we should get lunch. And afterwards," his gaze found Gloria, "settle the bill."

Gloria smiled. "Sounds good to me."

Klaus returned the smile. "Wonderful." Still holding my arm, he led us up the stairs and back into the grey afternoon.

* * *

It began sprinkling shortly before we reached the Grill. Klaus kept an umbrella in the car, which he had open and waiting as I climbed out the SUV. Taking my arm again, he held the umbrella overhead as the four of us walked the block to the Grill's door. Greta stayed close to his other side, while Gloria drifted along behind us, unconcerned with the rain.

Klaus only let go of my arm long enough to hold the door open for the three of us and to close the umbrella before stepping inside.

The Grill was sparse this time of day, a fact I was grateful for as Klaus' gaze roamed the room. A few teenagers were playing pool, but most of the clientele were adults eating a late lunch or grabbing a drink at the bar.

"We seat ourselves," I said.

Klaus led us to a booth near the back wall. He gave me the seat next to the window before sliding in beside me. Greta and Gloria took the bench across from us.

As they perused the menu, I wondered if Stefan and Pearl had reached Damon. I wondered if he'd try to deny what Pearl had to say. Refuse to believe them. How would they convince him?

A familiar face appearing beside our table drew me from my thoughts. "Hey, Elena."

"Vicki. Hi."

She studied the four of us, gaze curious. "What'll it be?"

Everyone had a variation of burger and fries. Gloria added a shake to the order.

"Bit old fashioned," Klaus remarked after Vicki took back the menus and walked away.

"What can I say." Gloria shrugged. "I'm an old-fashioned girl."

With that, the two began to talk about the 'good old days,' while Greta and I waited in silence for our food. It was a long twenty minutes, mostly filled with worrying over Damon and Stefan, avoiding Greta's curious eye, and looking out the window as the rain pattered the glass.

I wasn't very hungry when the food arrived but made myself eat at least half of the burger. I didn't want to find out what Klaus would do if he thought I was neglecting my health. Not that it really mattered, so long as I was alive to kill, but who knew with the temperamental hybrid. Besides, this wasn't my body. I had an obligation to at least try to keep it whole and healthy.

I was still the first one done and waited for the others. Thankfully, it seemed magic worked up an appetite because Greta and Gloria were finished not long after I was. Klaus ended up taking the longest—though I don't know what was so special about the Grill's hamburgers that he appeared to want to savor the taste. It hadn't been that good.

It wasn't long before Klaus finally finished his that Vicki reappeared at our side.

"Anything else?"

"As a matter of fact," Klaus waited until Vicki met his stare, "I'd like for you to leave early and follow us to two-oh-seven Ferry lane. You know where that is?"

"I know where," Vicki replied, voice flat and robotic.

"Good." Klaus tossed some cash onto the table as Vicki blinked, as if she were just waking up.

"Excuse me," she said, hands moving behind her as she worked to untie her serving apron.

My pulse picked up, and blood rushed through my ears. "What are you doing?"

"Just a little snack for later," Klaus replied as he slid out of the booth.

The sound of the attendant's blood flowing into a cup echoed in my head. "You can't kill Vicki!"

Klaus cocked a brow at me as he stood and held out a hand.

I refused to take it. Klaus' lips pressed into a tight frown before he grabbed my arm and pulled me across the seat and up beside him. "Don't be difficult now that you've gotten what you asked for," he warned.

I clenched my teeth, hands curling into fists. My sights swept the room, as if to look for help. Which was ridiculous of me. No one could help me.

But just as the thought occurred to me, out the corner of my eye, seated at the bar, was the jacket-clad back of another familiar face from the show. Alaric Saltzman stared off at the liquor-filled shelves behind the bar, drink in one hand with a bottle placed right beside him. It was clear he hadn't shaved for days, and his hair was a complete mess. It didn't seem as if he cared about anything other than the bottom of his glass and whatever nightmare was playing out behind his eyes.

Klaus was pulling me along through the Grill, while I continued to steal glances at Ric. I tried to think of a way to draw his attention, hint that something was wrong.

Then I realized he had no idea who I was, who Klaus was, who anyone in the town was. That he'd probably just come to claim his dead wife's body.

My hope was snuffed out as easily as candlelight as Klaus led me out the door and into the rain.

* * *

Stefan was sitting on the house's front steps as Klaus pulled into the driveway. He stood as the SUV rolled to a stop.

Klaus got out, a pleased grin on his face. "And there he is."

I hurried out of the SUV as another car pulled up the driveway. Gloria and Greta exited much calmer.

Klaus strode up to Stefan. Stefan alternated looking between me, Klaus, and the new car. Vicki pulled to a stop. Klaus watched Vicki standing from her Toyota with an expectant look on his face. "And there she is."

A terrible foreboding chilled me to the core. I ground my teeth in frustration. Not being able to do anything to stop Klaus—I loathed being so useless. I changed course from heading to the sidewalk to intercept Vicki. "Vicki, don't."

"I followed you out here," she said, brows furrowed.

I shifted on my feet before grabbing her shoulders. "Go back to work."

Vicki's confusion hardened into obstinance. Derision steeled her gaze as she wrenched out of my grip. "Don't tell me what to do, Elena."

I stared, shocked. "Vicki—" She knocked into my shoulder, shoving me back as she walked past me. I spun about and lunged for her arm. "He's going to kill you!"

Vicki scoffed at me before yanking her arm back.

Klaus, watching us, started to chuckle. I clenched my fists so hard my nails broke the skin of my palms. Klaus smirked at me as Vicki reached them.

"Why don't you join us inside?" Klaus suggested, tone pleasant. Even charming.

I sprinted up the sidewalk. "Don't!"

But it was as if she was determined to do the opposite of anything I said. "Sure," Vicki told Klaus.

I was about to say more—who walks into a stranger's house?—but Stefan caught my upper arm. Soon as he had my attention, he shook his head.

I squeezed my eyes shut, furious and helpless. He squeezed my upper arm and then lightly pulled me after Vicki and Klaus. I didn't want to follow them inside, but this time it was Stefan that left me no choice.

"Nice place," Vicki said as she looked around.

Stefan's gaze swept over the home's layout with a much sharper eye, lingering on the windows and doors. We moved aside as Greta and Gloria followed us in.

"Nice as it's been to catch up, I'm not interested in the after-dinner show," Gloria said. She pulled a bottle out from her purse and held it out.

Klaus took it. "Of course." He wandered away, to the island in the kitchen that held a restaurant-grade sink. Extending his arm over it, he picked up a nearby knife and ran it over his wrist.

Vicki eyed Klaus with growing discomfort. "What the hell?"

Klaus glanced over. "Stefan, make sure our guest doesn't leave anytime soon."

Stefan's lips pressed into a thin line as he moved between Vicki and the door. The pit in my stomach grew all the deeper. Vicki looked to me, but all I could do was meet the burgeoning fear in her eyes with grim fatalism. Vicki's fate was sealed the instant she entered the house instead of driving off as fast as she could. I wanted to look away, to go to the room Klaus had granted me, but I refused to take the cowardly way out.

She shouldn't die alone amongst monsters.

"What's going on?" Vicki asked, a quavering note entering her voice, searching each of our faces in turn.

I looked to Stefan, but he refused to meet my eyes.

Klaus finished filling the bottle and walked over to Gloria. "I trust that makes us even."

Gloria took a handkerchief from her purse and wiped off the excess blood on the outside before smiling up at him. "It does. You'll let me know when that curse is broken?"

"Of course," Klaus promised. "Let me escort you out."

"Mind if I look around?" Greta asked as Klaus showed Gloria to the door.

"Not at all," Klaus answered before pulling open the door and standing aside for Gloria. "Make yourself at home."

Vicki bolted ahead, only to be intercepted by Stefan. "Let me go!" she demanded, voice hard but high. She tried jerking out of his hold to no avail. She lifted her fists, tried to shove his arms off her. Stefan, stone-faced, didn't budge.

Gloria walked outside with a farewell before Klaus closed the door. Greta, meanwhile, made for the living room with the oversized television.

"Why don't you go with her?" Stefan suggested to me.

I shook my head.

"Elena," Stefan insisted while Vicki cursed him and kicked his leg.

Klaus hummed a laugh. "Let her go."

Stefan immediately did so. Vicki hurried around him and grabbed the doorknob, twisting it and yanking the door open.

Unfortunately, this put her right next to Klaus.

Without his wolf being free, his eyes were as red as any other vampire's. They gleamed with excitement as he caught Vicki by the upper arm when she made to run out past the front door. Vicki shouted, a wordless, broken sob that brought tears to my eyes. Klaus let out an animalistic growl before violently yanking her head to the side by her hair and biting down into her neck.

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away. Even so, I couldn't keep out the pained noises Vicki made.

It was another eternal minute before Klaus said, "Hungry?"

Vicki sobbed.

"No," Stefan answered.

I opened my eyes again in time to see Klaus, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth, smile. "Liar."

"Let me go," Vicki begged.

Klaus shushed her and ran a hand down her hair. His red eyes stared at Stefan. "Go on, mate." Vicki suddenly let out a yell of pain as Klaus shifted his hold on her arm. "Or I'll make it even more unpleasant."

Stefan's chest rose and fell, his breath coming in fast pants though he was trying to hide it. The dark veins beneath his eyes kept pulsing, trying to crawl up. His expression was utterly blank, but his still-green eyes were filled with anguish. Whether because of the situation, or how hungry he was, I couldn't tell.

Suddenly Klaus shoved Vicki forward. She screamed in a combination of pain and fury as Stefan caught her. Even as she pleaded with him to let her go, Stefan lost the battle with the veins beneath his eyes. The blood filled the whites of his eyes, and his green irises darkened to a deep ruby red. "I'm sorry," he muttered, fangs bared beneath his upper lip.

Vicki screamed as he struck, quick as a snake.

My horrified sights found Klaus, dark blue eyes bright with pleasure and a satisfied little smile on his face. As soon as he noticed my stare, his smile turned into a crooked smirk. His gaze darted back to Stefan as he said, "Every last drop."

Stefan growled. Vicki's voice weakened to whimpers.

And then nothing.

Stefan dropped her. Her body thudded against the floor, head bouncing off the marble tiles.

I fell into a crouch beside her, grabbing her hand to press my fingers against her wrist. I waited, anxious, and pressed as hard as I dared. Nothing. I shifted my fingers, pressing harder, until the skin beneath them paled. Frantic, I let go of her wrist, letting her hand flop to the ground, and tried the pulse point on the unbloodied side of her neck.

Nothing.

I thought for an instant of trying CPR but realized there was no point. Not without an immediate blood transfusion.

A buzz sounded in my skull. I sat back without feeling totally connected to Elena's body. I wondered if my spirit was about to leave it again.

Klaus' voice broke through the white noise in my ears. "Take care of it."

I was pulled up off the ground. Klaus led me away from Vicki as Stefan stooped down to scoop her body up into his arms, bridal style.

Klaus was pulling me along to the staircase when Greta appeared from the living room. "Where's the remote?"

Numb, I turned dull eyes to her. She looked utterly unconcerned with the murder that had just taken place not twenty feet away. "On the side table," I muttered.

Greta nodded and turned back towards the couch.

Klaus continued guiding me up the stairs and back to Katherine's room. I stopped, unsure what to do, just past the door. He forced my chin up to make our eyes meet. "No leaving the property. Am I clear?"

"Yes," I whispered.

Klaus smiled until his eyes crinkled. "Such an obedient girl."

The approval in his voice sparked the first solid sensation in the pit of my stomach. Nausea.

Klaus dropped his hand and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

I wandered over to the edge of the bed and sat down.

A part of me expected tears to fall. The rest wondered what it said about me when they didn't.

* * *

I spent the rest of the day in Katherine's room, listening to the hum of the television downstairs until even that went silent.

Stefan never came to check on me. I can't say I was surprised. Or disappointed.

I hadn't really done much except lay on the bed, wishing I could slip into unconsciousness. It wasn't as if my thoughts raced—which was the usual problem when I couldn't sleep. Instead, the last few minutes of Vicki's life replayed over and over. The sights, the smells, the sounds. All of it clear as a bell.

There was nothing to do to distract myself. But moreover, there was nothing I could think of wanting to do. So I laid there and let it play itself out to its gruesome end, and then start all over again. Even well past sundown.

"CAW!"

Vicki's pleas finally faded away at the demanding birdcall at my window. Blinking, as if waking from a nightmare, I rose up and off the bed, moving to the window.

A crow even darker than the night itself perched on the windowsill. "Caw!" it demanded as it watched my approach.

Surreality reigned as I looked out into the yard.

I don't know how I noticed him. He was clad entirely in black leather, so that the only part of him that stood out was his pale face. Without the moon, it was almost too dark to see even that. I was about to call out when his finger lifted to his lips.

And like an old horror novel, he beckoned for me to come outside.

I didn't even stop to consider what to do before slipping out of Katherine's boots and stepping quietly to the door. The house was dark, even the downstairs was quiet, as I made my way down the staircase. I took a right and travelled further back, through the game room to the sliding glass door at the back of the house.

Damon waited just beyond it. He looked like hell. His hair in disarray—not the usual deliberate mess but as if he'd walked through a hurricane to get here. I could smell the bourbon wafting off him. A bottle of it, which I was sure wasn't his first, was held loosely in one hand. The other held the doorframe—but not to posture. No. This time, it looked as if it was keeping him upright.

His bleary eyes struggled to focus on me. "Go ahead."

I was surprised he wasn't slurring his words. "What?"

He motioned with the bottle, sloshing the liquid within. "Say it."

All of the sudden, exhaustion started to pull at me. I sighed. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Katherine." And just like that, I was awake again. More awake than I'd been since Vicki. "Not going to say I told you so?" he asked.

There was a part of me, the one that had been frightened and hurt when he'd left me to Anna or had threatened to kill me, that was glad to be proven right. But seeing the broken look in Damon's eyes didn't provide any satisfaction. Mostly, I remembered the times my heart had been broken. Not that they compared to a hundred and forty years of pining, only to be tricked again. "No Damon."

He laughed, a raw, rasping sound that suggested he'd screamed so much, not even his vampire healing could repair the damage to his vocal cords. "Why not?"

"I know how much Katherine meant to you." Damon shook his head before taking a swallow from the bottle. I pressed my lips together before admitting, "I don't like to see you hurt."

The bottle dropped back to his side. He stared down at it, peering into it as if it held the answer to some elusive mystery. "I can't figure out why," he whispered.

"To fool Klaus into thinking she was dead."

But Damon shook his head. "Not that." Damon looked up, meeting my gaze with wide eyes shining with pain. "Why trick me into thinking she'd always been there?"

"I don't know, Damon."

He blew out a breath, looking away. "Guess you don't know everything, then," he muttered.

"I never said I did," I replied softly.

Damon nodded before pushing himself off the frame. He nearly fell before catching himself and frowning down at his feet. With another drink from his bottle, he turned and weaved his way across the paved porch and into the yard.

"Damon."

He stopped and gazed over his shoulder. After a moment, I stepped past the glass door into the night. The blades of grass were slightly damp underfoot, a few sticking to my skin as they whispered beneath my feet. I stopped next to him, bourbon and misery made crisp in the cool Virginia air. I leaned up on my tiptoes and, after a shared glance, brought my mouth next to his ear. I whispered, quiet enough for the sound to be lost beneath the rustle of the grass.

His eyes were wide as I drifted back onto my heels, pain momentarily overtaken by confusion. "Why?" he asked softly.

"Because I know you're worthy of hearing it."

Damon stared.

I met his bright-eyed stare for several long seconds before stepping aside. "I better get back before Klaus comes to see if I'm trying to run off."

I waited for a goodbye, disappointed when it never came. I summoned a thin smile anyway and turned around to retreat into the house.

"Elena."

I paused, twisting to look behind me. Damon stood a little straighter than moments before, as if he were trying to sober up. "I know I screwed up with Anna. But I swear, I won't let you die."

"I already have, Damon," I reminded him.

Damon frowned. "Again, then. You know what I mean."

"Klaus needs me alive. He won't let me stay dead. It's for the best—"

He was in front of me in a blink. "It's not." His eyes brightened with a fervent light. "I've died too, remember? You shouldn't have to go through that so some dick can have a few minions. You don't owe him a damn thing. Let alone your life."

"It's not really mine."

"Yes, it is," Damon shot back with a fierceness that stunned me. "However you ended up with it, you've been living it. That makes it yours."

This time, I was the one who didn't know what to say. It wasn't that I agreed with him, per se. More that he seemed to actually care whether or not I believed it.

I was about to answer when a light flickered on inside. My heart shot to my throat at the sight of the glowing window. "I have to go."

Damon glared up at it before his sights fixed back on me. His gaze roamed my face before he gave a single nod. I turned about and hurried back into the house, pausing at the sliding door to look back.

Damon was gone.

The door slid shut as I let out a breath. I turned, intent to make my way back to Katherine's room when the sight of a shadow looming by a column stopped me short, stealing my breath.

It wasn't until my eyes adjusted to the darkness that I realized it was Stefan standing there, watching.

I managed a shaky smile and mouthed Damon.

He nodded before backing away and disappearing.

My heart was racing all the way back to my temporary room. Not because Stefan had startled me, or the way he'd disappeared.

But because I thought there'd been a bit of red in his eyes.


End file.
